


I Know the Stars are Lighting Your Path

by everything0es



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Lots of Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Sorry Yamaguchi, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 14:10:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20310814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everything0es/pseuds/everything0es
Summary: Yamaguchi has just taken his own life and Tsukishima has 204 unread messages on his old phone.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> this is your BIG CONTENT WARNING
> 
> please note: this work will have major themes in suicide, depression, and grief, while also containing themes of self-harm, loneliness and anxiety. Please read the tags for extra details!
> 
> there are some things I need to get off my chest. (sorry to yams and tsukki)

"Tadashi's gone, Kei-kun."  


The first thing that gets him is the choice of honorific. Kei-kun. Awful.  


The second thing that gets him is how wrong that is. Yamaguchi can't be gone. He was here yesterday.  


"Where?" The question makes Tsukishima feel like a child. Yamaguchi's mother’s eyes are so red and raw and they fill up with tears. She looks 20 years older than she did the last time he saw her, which was yesterday.  


"Tadashi's passed away."  


Yamaguchi's mother is so fragile. Tsukishima realises this when she squeezes his hand with all her strength, but the grip is so weak.  


"No."   


_Where's the air in the room gone?_  


"Kei, there's something you should know," she braces herself, maybe it's the last of her energy, and takes a deep breath. _Ah, that's where the airs all gone. _"Tadashi killed himself."  


"No." Tsukishima repeats.   


This is a bad dream. He'll wake up soon and get dressed and then walk to school with Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi will slot nicely next to Tsukishima like he always does. They'll get to school, have their classes and Yamaguchi will complain about the surprise test at lunch. They'll go to practice after school where Yamaguchi will work harder than anyone else and then they'll walk home together. They might stop at a cafe for a hot chocolate if Yamaguchi needs a sugar kick. They'll go their separate ways and Yamaguchi will promise to see him tomorrow, like he did yesterday.  


Yamaguchi doesn't break his promises, so why is she lying about him not being here?  


"Where's Tadashi? I want to see him."  


"They took him away for an autopsy." Yamaguchi’s mother barely makes it to the end of the sentence and then much to Tsukishima's horror, she starts crying. She's an ugly crier, Tsukishima thinks, so maybe that's why she burrows her face into his chest to hide it, making his t-shirt wet.  


The force of her head doesn't wake him up. He isn't dreaming.  


Yamaguchi isn't here anymore. He won't be walking to school with Tsukishima tomorrow.  


Tsukishima doesn't exactly believe in soulmates, but he did believe Yamaguchi was his other half, destined to be in his life forever. And now Yamaguchi's taken half of Tsukishima to the grave.  


How selfish.


	2. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the first chapter! Thank you to everyone who read the prologue and to those who left kudos! I was surprised to see people were reading this early on! I was pretty anxious to post as it's the first thing I've posted online for 2 1/2 years but everyone's kindness has really helped :) also big thank you to anon who left me a comment!

Tsukishima isn’t quite sure how he went from awkwardly patting Yamaguchi’s mother on her head to sitting in Yamaguchi’s room on the floor alone. She had called him this morning asking him to come by because Yamaguchi was running late again, and he should come in to keep shelter from the rain, but he’d been tricked. Instead, he’s found out Yamaguchi’s dead and they took him away somewhere.  
  
It’s Tuesday morning and the house is awfully quiet apart from Mrs. Yamaguchi howling downstairs by the phone. The patter of Yamaguchi’s panicked footsteps is the common sound in the house as he rushes to get ready after oversleeping as usual at this time of the morning, but it’s dead air.

That was probably an inappropriate way to describe it. 

Tsukishima almost laughs.

He keeps staring at the unmade bed he had slept in various times before. He tries to imagine Yamaguchi laying there, unbreathing, and his mother coming in to try and wake him up. Maybe she screamed when she couldn’t feel his pulse. Tsukishima can’t picture any of it. This has to be a joke. 

“Yamaguchi, we’re so late for school, where are you?” 

Tsukishima checks the date on his phone. It’s not April Fools. So he waits.

The clock ticks past 12 and he waits.

His phone starts ring and he picks it up from the phone and answers.

_“Kei? Kei! Is that you?” _It’s his mother, who sounds frantic.

“It’s me.”

_“Kei! Where are you? The school phoned to say you’re not in class.”_

“I’m at Yamaguchi’s.”

_“Yamaguchi’s?” _She sounds relieved.

“Yamaguchi’s mother told me he died this morning.”

Tsukishima’s mother gasps on the other end of the line and then she’s silent.

Tsukishima starts to bite his nails.

_Yamaguchi can’t be dead. _

_“Kei… I’m coming to pick you up.” _

“I’m waiting for Yamaguchi, so we can walk to school. I think this is a joke.”

_“Kei…” _Her voice wobbles. _“I’ll be there soon.”_

Tsukishima puts his phone back on the floor and waits.

-

Tsukishima thinks it’s possible that he’s spent as much time in Yamaguchi’s room over the years as he has in his own room. Tsukishima likes Yamaguchi’s room. It’s homely, with posters and polaroid photos stuck to his walls, plushies of his favourite Pokémon on the shelves and his blanket kicked to the bottom of the bed. Yamaguchi never liked the bedroom light hanging from the ceiling because he found it too bright, so there are 3 lamps dotted around his room.

Tsukishima hasn’t turned on the lamps, letting the room be lit by natural light. It’s gloomy today and it makes the room look dull. The room feels empty – Yamaguchi’s missing.

He opens the door to Yamaguchi’s wardrobe to check he’s not hiding inside. He isn’t. Tsukishima feels stupid. Yamaguchi is apparently dead and he’s checking his wardrobe to see if he’s hiding in there in some elaborate prank. His heart drops to his stomach. _This can’t be real. _

He receives a text from Daichi and he doesn’t bother to read it. He receives another 10 minutes later from Sugawara and ignores that one too. Then his phone buzzes several times in a row and in irritation Tsukishima mutters swear words under his breath as he unlocks his phone.

**[From: Unknown number] 3:37pm**

_Tsukishima!!!!_  
**  
[From: Unknown number] 3:37pm**

_are you coming to practice today?_

**[From: Unknown number] 3:37pm**

_we have a practice match with another school today_

**[From: Unknown number] 3:37pm**

_have you seen yamaguchi?_

**[From: Unknown number] 3:37pm**

_I haven’t seen him today and he won’t reply to my texts_

**[From: Unknown number] 3:37pm**  
  
_this is hinata btw_

_Tch_, who thought it was a good idea to give the small idiot his number?  
  
**[To: Hinata Shouyou] 3:40pm**  
  
_Fuck off. _  
  
Hinata doesn’t text again which is surprising when Tsukishima was at least expecting an angry message back telling him not to be mean. Instead, he receives another text from Sugawara:

**[From: Sugawara Koshi] 3:44pm**

_Is everything okay?  
  
_Tsukishima types ‘_Yamaguchi is dead’ _but deletes it before he sends it because it makes this too real and he wants to spare Sugawara the trauma. He turns his phone off.

The stairs start creaking and he can already smell his mother’s perfume. He heard her car pull up a few hours ago, so she must’ve been the one comforting Mrs. Yamaguchi downstairs this whole time. His mother, Hisae, gently knocks before entering the room.

“Kei.” Her voice is so quiet it’s almost a whisper. She looks tired and her eyes are red.  
  
Tsukishima thinks if he were a bit more normal, a bit more sensitive, he would go running into her arms like they do in the movies. He opens his mouth to speak but he remembers there’s nothing to say.  
  
“Let’s go home for today, we can come back tomorrow, I already checked with Mai-san,” she smiles and holds out her hand.  
  
_I don’t want to._  
  
Even though Yamaguchi’s room is boring without him, Tsukishima doesn’t want to leave. He opens his mouth to argue, but he sees a tear fall down his mother’s face and her outstretched hand goes to wipe it away, so he decides he will leave his arguments for another day.

“Why don’t you take something of Tadashi’s home with you today? I’m sure Mai-san won’t mind.”

_I don’t want to._

He doesn’t want to disturb the room how Tadashi left it. He leaves the plushies and blankets and the photos alone and looks back to Yamaguchi’s wardrobe. He spots his volleyball club uniform and takes it out. This is better. Something practical. Now, he can put number 12 next to number 11, where it’s meant to be. He takes the shorts and the top off the hanger and carefully puts the hanger back in the wardrobe.

Tsukishima and his mother slowly leave the room together, his mother sliding the door shut behind them. Before they leave the house, Tsukishima sees Yamaguchi’s mother asleep on the sofa, with her husband sitting on the floor in front of her, head in his hands.   
  
“Let’s leave them alone for today.” Hisae whispers, putting a hand on Tsukishima’s back and guiding him to the front door because even after all these years, it seems he’s forgotten the way.

The drive home is silent. In the end, Tsukishima is glad his mother suggested taking a possession of Yamaguchi’s – he clutches his jersey all the way home, up the stairs and in his bedroom where he lays in his bed, still dressed in his school uniform. He tries to picture Yamaguchi in his head – smiling, a bit timid, next to Tsukishima’s side – but his mind conjures up a distorted image of him and it’s not quite right.

_Photos. He needs to check photos._

He picks up his phone and to the photo app, but there’s barely anything there. He goes into his bedside table and into the bottom drawer, bringing out his old phone. He blows the dust off the screen and attempts to turn it on, but the battery’s dead. He plugs it into charge and sits it on top of his beside table.

While he waits for it to turn back on, Tsukishima gives allows himself to spend the little energy he has to change into his pajamas. He stares at the dinner on his desk left by his mother, but his appetite has vanished. He wonders if food will taste different now Yamaguchi’s gone.

He sits cross-legged on his bed, wiping the sweat from his palms onto his cotton shorts. His heart starts to race. He’s nervous to see Yamaguchi again.

He picks up the old phone and it comes to life, the home screen showing missed notifications.

**[Yamaguchi Tadashi]**

_204 messages, 1 missed call_

Tsukishima’s world stops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this chapter I gave Tsukishima's mum a name (Hisae) and also Yamaguchi's mum (Mai). These aren't their official names :) 
> 
> I have no idea where this story is going, but I have a lot to vent, so thank you for listening


	3. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who left me a comment on the last chapter! I have been blown away by the support, it means the world to me! and also big thank you to everyone leaving kudos!

Tsukishima can’t breathe.   
  
204 messages.  
  
1 missed call.  
  
What was Yamaguchi playing at? Yamaguchi had his new number, he texted him on it every day, so why were there 204 unread messages from him on his old phone? His hands shake as he unlocks his phone and he opens at the green message app.  
  
**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 3rdMarch, 2:02pm  
  
**_tsukki, have you got your new phone yet?  
  
  
_**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 3rdMarch, 2:25pm  
  
**_reply to meeeeeeeeee  
  
  
_Tsukishima releases the air he’s been holding. Maybe this won’t be so bad. He swipes onto the next message.  
  
**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 3rdMarch, 3:14pm  
  
**_oh, you’ve got it now but are you still checking this phone?  
  
  
_**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 4th** **March, 11:09am**  
  
_You’re not checking this phone anymore, so I can use it to tell you all my deepest, darkest secrets >:)  
  
  
_4 messages read. 200 to go. The first messages are from 3rd March and he died today, 9thSeptember.  
  
_What the fuck, Yamaguchi? _  
  
If the last message is dated 8thor 9thSeptember, Tsukishima knows he’ll never forgive himself.

He’s not ready for that yet. He throws his phone back into the drawer, slamming it shut to hide his dirty secret.

-

Tsukishima doesn’t sleep that night, either from the adrenaline, the guilt, the anxiety or all three, so at 4am he gets up and puts on his sportswear with his headphones and goes for a run. The streets of Miyagi are generally safe, but Tsukishima runs like there’s a monster at his heels, sprinting on the pavements while the music in his ears cheers him on.

He comes to a stop at Yamaguchi’s house, panting and doubled over. There’s that familiar metallic taste in his mouth he gets when he’s being worked to the bone by Ukai in practice, except this time the sweat rolling down his back and the fuzzy feeling in his legs feels good. At least now he doesn’t feel so hollow like he did all day when he was told Yamaguchi was dead. Now he’s at least feeling _something_. 

Tsukishima looks at the house. He didn’t plan to come here, or at least, he doesn’t think so. The curtains downstairs are drawn but the rooms are lit, and he nearly gets the urge to knock on the door. He could really do with some comfort in the form of words or someone holding his hand or _something, _literally anything to make this empty feeling go away. 

If he hasn’t slept, then surely Yamaguchi’s parents haven’t slept either. Maybe they’re up, watching TV or clinging to each other. It’s likely they’re not in Yamaguchi’s room, where the curtains are open and inside it’s dark.

He doesn’t want to be caught here, so Tsukishima takes another deep breath before stretching his muscles and he starts running again.

_Tadashi. _

Tsukishima’s mind fills with Yamaguchi’s smile but it’s just so _painful_.

_Tadashi. _  
  
There’s a hot flash of weight in his chest and a lump begins to creep up in his throat. Tsukishima swallows as hard as he can and begins to run faster, leaving what he can of his pain behind in the streets. 

-

After Tsukishima gets back home and collapses into bed, he doesn’t wake until noon. When he stirs, he’s forgotten, but has an unsettling feeling in his stomach, just like the morning after he’s had a nightmare. He stares blearily at the ceiling while he slowly wakes up, feeling dazed. But what he eventually realises is that the room is too bright for the morning. He glances at his alarm clock - _shit! _– he’s overslept for school. He jumps out of bed and goes straight to the bathroom, taking clean clothes with him.

When he returns to his room, his mother is sitting on his bed, waiting.  
  
“Kei,” she smiles when he enters, but when he only looks confused, she realises – _he doesn’t remember. _“Kei, come and sit next to me.” She pats the space next to her and the feeling of dread in Tsukishima intensifies. 

“Sorry that I overslept for school, I think I forgot to set my alarm.” Once he’s sat, his mother takes one of his hands. It’s common knowledge that Tsukishima is not really the biggest fan of touching, so he knows that when his mother takes his hand, that _oh god, it’s serious. _

“We’re going over to Yamaguchi’s house again today,” she starts. Tsukishima’s head tilts in questioning. “You remember what’s happened, don’t you?”

Tsukishima shakes his head. He feels like crying. This feeling residing in his stomach and his chest and his mother’s tone indicate the unimaginable has happened, but he can’t remember _what_.

“Kei, Tadashi passed away yesterday.”

_Oh._

There it is. The unimaginable. The slap that brings him to reality. It all comes flooding back now – Yamaguchi’s jersey, Mrs. Yamaguchi sleeping on the sofa, his old phone. He feels sick. His face is wet, though he doesn’t feel like he’s crying, but regardless lets himself be held by his mother with his head on her shoulder. Hisae makes sure she holds him tighter than usual.

They stay there for a while, until Hisae has an ache in her neck from resting her head on her son’s and Tsukishima stops shaking. She gently guides him to lie back down, pulling the duvet over him and promises to come back soon. In her absence, Tsukishima puts his glasses back on and checks his phone. He wonders if Karasuno know about Yamaguchi.  
  
**[From: Sugawara Koshi] 9:26am**

_We’re here for you, Tsukishima. Come back when you’re ready _

How come Sugawara always knew what to say? Tsukishima doesn’t understand how Sugawara seems to be able to read everyone like book, especially Tsukishima, who tries his best to say as little as possible during practice, unless it was cussing the king or laughing at the shrimp when he messed up.

The thought makes him realise the volleyball club is never going to be the same. Maybe he’ll never go back, but he thinks he owes it to his senior to reply to at least one text.

**[To: Sugawara Koshi] 12:54pm**  
  
_Does everyone know?_

  
**[From: Sugawara Koshi] 12:55pm**  
  
_They held an emergency assembly at school this morning. Let me know if you need anything, okay?_

  
Tsukishima’s respect for Sugawara doubles. His words are gentle comfort but without any pity. Tsukishima doesn’t hear from anyone else in the volleyball team, which is both a relief but leaves Tsukishima feeling a little lonely. Though it’s not much of a surprise – Tsukishima knows he’s not the most popular person on the team, _but even still… _

His mother returns, as promised, with a small snack, a box of tissues and water. Tsukishima eats the rice ball to ease his mother’s frets about him not eating, but it doesn’t taste of anything and makes him feel more ill. Nevertheless, the beam from his mother when he’s finished makes it worth it.

\- 

Tsukishima’s at Yamaguchi’s house again. He’s standing at the front door, with his mother’s grip on his shoulder. He’s not entirely convinced he wants to be here. He’s not sure he can go through another day sitting alone in Yamaguchi’s bedroom, whether he’s in a daze or if he’s flooded with memories. When Mai opens the door, she leads them in after polite bows and guides them in after they’ve taken off their shoes.

They follow Mai into their living room, sitting on their feet at their low-level table. There’s a pot of hot tea in the middle and Mai pours some for Tsukishima and his mother. Hisae takes a sip out of politeness, but Tsukishima just stares into the cup, his mind drifting while Mai and Hisae talk softly.

“Tadashi is coming home.” 

Tsukishima’s head snaps up. _What? _

“We spoke to the mortuary and we’ve decided to keep it traditional for Tadashi, so they’re bringing him home later today to spend his last night with us,” Mai looks at her own cup which she’s holding in one hand. It rattles against the tea cup just underneath it. “We got the results back from the autopsy – it was an overdose of painkillers that took our Tadashi away.”

Tsukishima’s head spins - Yamaguchi’s dead and the only one who took his life out of his hands was himself. 

_I don’t understand._

_I don’t understand._

_I don’t understand._

_Why did you do this?_

_Everything seemed fine._

_You seemed fine._

_Did I even know you at all?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while I was writing this chapter I read about traditional Japanese funerals - its common practice for the body to return home and be placed on their bed/futon. Their hands will be placed together and knife will be put on their chest to protect them from evil spirits. Dry ice blocks will be placed around the body and then will then be covered by a duvet or sheet (the face will be covered by a separate sheet). "Members of the immediate family, including children of all ages, and friends from the neighborhood will drop by and give their condolences. It is not uncommon for people to sit with, touch, and talk to the body almost as if it were still alive." 
> 
> https://www.japanvisitor.com/japanese-culture/japanese-funerals 
> 
> https://asianethnology.org/downloads/ae/pdf/a1755.pdf


	4. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a bit short but it wrote itself

Tsukishima breathes out as steadily as he can.

He can’t do this, but he doesn’t have a choice. It’s now or never.

Yamaguchi is home. On the other side of the door, he’s lying on his own bed. Mai had helped the undertakers lay him to rest when they arrived, while Tsukishima buried his head his own hands from the moment there was the knock on the front door. He had stayed like this when he heard Mai chatter away like usual while they were moving around upstairs. Once Mai had seen the caretakers out the house, she immediately left for her son’s side again, but this time she was silent. 

Not even five minutes later, Tsukishima flinched as Mai had started howling in unapologetic agony. He didn’t dare move. His mother, on the other hand, had tensed and placed a protective hand on him before moving to go upstairs. Though going by her stiff movements, she seemed reluctant to leave Tsukishima alone. On the contrary, he was grateful for the breathing space.

So now it’s his turn see Yamaguchi. He has to admit it’s not his choice.

_It’ll be good for him. _

_He’ll be able to come to terms with it. _

_Then he’ll be able to start to process what’s happened._

That’s what his mother had said. Tsukishima wasn’t convinced. And now he’s standing outside Yamaguchi’s bedroom with trembling hands and buckling knees and he knows he isn’t ready; but Yamaguchi’s inside for what will be for the last time and he knows the regret if he doesn’t see him will be much worse than the regret of seeing his best friend dead will be. 

Tsukishima slides open the door and steps inside. His body follows his eyes to the bed and Yamaguchi’s there – lying on his back, covered with a sheet. He can make out his hands together on his chest. 

Tsukishima stands by the bed, feeling awkward. His hands fidget and he doesn’t know what to say.

“Tadashi-” he starts, but he’s surprised by his own voice. Calling Yamaguchi by his given name was reserved for their delicate moments together. Tsukishima decides this is probably one of those moments. “You’re my best friend.”

This doesn’t feel real.

Tsukishima remembers reading somewhere that it’s impossible to read in your dreams. He glances to Yamaguchi’s bookshelf and finds he can read every book spine. He watches the clock tick away each second on a wall.

This is real. 

And yet, Tsukishima feels like he’s an entire world away.

He stares down at Yamaguchi. He half expects Yamaguchi to suddenly giggle like he does when he’s been figured out during a game of hide-and-seek, or for his arm to twitch like it does while he’s sleeping. He watches for a few minutes, but Yamaguchi stays perfectly still. 

Tsukishima reaches down and presses the back of his hand to Yamaguchi’s arm. Even through the sheet, his skin is ice cold and Tsukishima’s hand instinctively jumps away.

_This can’t be Yamaguchi._

“Tadashi. Say something,” Some moments pass, and Yamaguchi is silent. “Say anything. Please… please come back to me.”

Panic starts to rise, and Tsukishima feels it everywhere – his chest feels heavy, his hands and arms start to tingle and his head is full of static.

“Tadashi, _please __don’t leave me like this_.”

Nothing changes.

_Please, please wake up._

“Tadashi, please, you’re all I have.” A sob he’s been holding back breaks through, making Tsukishima lose any shred of composure he had left.

A separate sheet covers Yamaguchi’s face, and it’d be incredibly disrespectful for Tsukishima to remove it, but he needs to know if this real or an elaborate prank. 

He checks behind his shoulder to make sure he’s alone and then his hand reaches out to the corner of the sheet. He begins to peel it away from his face – and then he sees it: Yamaguchi’s dark khaki green hair, the freckles on his cheeks. Tsukishima begins to hyperventilate, but he doesn’t stop removing the sheet until it’s off his face completely. 

Tsukishima wishes he hadn’t. 

It’s Yamaguchi. His eyes are closed and mouth is in a straight line. The colour of his skin is a sickly grey, and it makes Yamaguchi look older. Tsukishima doesn’t know this person.

“Tadashi-” Tsukishima gasps, but he loses the strength in his legs and falls to his knees beside the bed. He can’t breathe. Tsukishima remembers he hasn’t seen a dead body before. 

He takes another look at Yamaguchi’s face and slaps a hand to his mouth as he feels himself retch. Tsukishima does his best to get back up on his feet, put the sheet back over Yamaguchi’s face as smoothly as he can while holding back the acid in his throat before running to the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet.

Tsukishima shivers as he cries, cries, cries, the image of Yamaguchi burning into his mind. He knew he wasn’t ready for this, but he doesn’t want to leave Yamaguchi this soon, there’s still so much to say, so much to apologise for – and he hasn’t said goodbye.

Someone wipes the sweat from Tsukishima’s forehead and roughly wipes his mouth with tissue. He is so _tired_.

_Please don’t take him away. I haven’t said goodbye._

Tsukishima thinks he may have said that aloud, because someone, somewhere promises him he can try again tomorrow.


	5. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops sorry for not updating in over two weeks! I moved flats all by myself which totally exhausted me and then unpacking took me like a whole week lmao 
> 
> this chapter is 2k so I hope that makes up for it!

Tsukishima sees Yamaguchi again the next day, and it goes a lot smoother this time.

This time, Tsukishima sets Yamaguchi’s desk chair next to the bed, so even though he’s still weak at the knees, he doesn’t collapse on the floor like the night before and add more bruises to the collection. This time, Tsukishima still slowly peels back the sheet on Yamaguchi’s face, but this time he doesn’t feel bile climbing up his throat or feel like screaming. This time, the version of Yamaguchi laying on the bed in front of him doesn’t shock or terrify him. This time, he knows what to expect.

Tsukishima was practicing what he wanted to say all night, memorising lines as if he had a presentation the next morning, and now all that work has gone to waste, because now he’s here, the words he practiced feel like plastic in his throat. He can hear Yamaguchi in the back of his head, _you should be more honest, Tsukki!_

Tsukki.

Tsukishima never thought he’d miss his nickname rolling off Yamaguchi’s tongue and he hadn’t ever considered that to be a possibility in his lifetime, yet here he was. Tsukishima is in Yamaguchi’s bedroom for what could be the last time and Yamaguchi is dead in his bed in front of him.

“Tadashi…” And just like yesterday, Yamaguchi remains unmoving. Tsukishima still isn’t certain this is all real. “Are you really dead?” Tsukishima tilts his head and watches Yamaguchi’s chest. It doesn’t rise and fall like it used to when Tsukishima frequently slept over. In the mornings, he’d always be the one to wake up first and he would glance over to Yamaguchi who was always fast asleep, mouth wide open and snoring softly.

“Tadashi, I don’t understand.” 

This isn’t how death worked, Tsukishima thinks, and he knows he's right – he’s right about most things. He’s had experience with death. A few years ago, he had watched death tie itself to his grandmother’s fingernails like string, and wrap itself around her skin and crawl down her airways, spinning tightly around her lungs and pulling, pulling, until she suffocated.

He could remember her body’s cries for help too vividly, her every breath sounding like tiny screams, and so whenever Yamaguchi wheezed in weather that was too hot or too cold, it instinctively made Tsukishima drop everything to reach into his own bag and pull out the spare inhaler he carried around with him everywhere and shoving it into Yamaguchi’s face with shaky hands.

So, no, death didn't work like this. It was long and tortuous and pure agony. Death is a tease, dragging out the process as long as the body will fight to live and in turn, you turn insensitive to the hundredth last goodbye. 

But this… this is a new type of death.

Of course, Tsukishima had heard of suicide before, but that was only reserved for the most tragic, broken people in the media. Now Tsukishima has to admit it came into his life in the worst possible way.

_When did you become one of those broken people? _

Yamaguchi doesn’t answer. 

Tsukishima doesn’t know how to say goodbye. He feels like he’s running out of words, but there’s still so much left to say. Tsukishima knows Yamaguchi would like him to talk about stories of their childhood together, all the good memories they shared as teenagers and for Tsukishima to promise he’ll keep living as normally as he can, but Tsukishima hopes Yamaguchi knows that it would be out of character for him to be reminiscing, despite the situation. 

But still, Tsukishima tries. He tries for his best friend, but the words are like thread that get tangled in his throat, so he tells three different memories at once. Tsukishima thinks if he believed in spirits, he would be able to see Yamaguchi with his knees pulled up to his chest on his beanbag giggling at his attempt to open up for him.

Tsukishima’s stomach twists. He’d do anything to hear that again. _Just how much of Yamaguchi did he take for granted?_

“I’m sorry I don’t really remember the first time we met,” Tsukishima blurts. “But to be honest, the time we started talking when you were standing outside the gym watching the volleyball club and told me my shoes were cool is what I count as the first time we met.” Tsukishima smiles a little. “You were so small, like, half my height in elementary school… but you eventually caught up in middle school. I didn’t tell you, but I was worried that you would eventually be taller than me because I didn’t grow that much more.” He knows if Yamaguchi was here, he’d be laughing.

Tsukishima lets the silence fall over the room again. He stares at Yamaguchi’s peaceful face and without much thought, stretches out his hand and places it on Yamaguchi’s cheek. His skin is not the radiant warmth he’s used to, but the ice cold doesn’t shock him this time, either. This intimate, platonic touching had been a part of Yamaguchi’s developing need for affection over the last year and Tsukishima was only just getting used to it. He hadn’t yet felt comfortable to ask the question of why Yamaguchi needed the sensation of touch so much, and now he’d never know. 

Tsukishima relaxes a little. He doesn’t feel so awkward in the silence anymore. 

“Tadashi, I…” The other two words are there, but his voice refuses to say them. “Sorry.” He clears his throat. “Tadashi…” he gulps. He forces it out. “I love you,” he looks over to the beanbag and if he could see Yamaguchi’s spirit, he thinks he’d be beaming, or smiling, at least. “I know it’s not the way you wanted me to.” Tsukishima sighs.

_I loved you as much as I could. Why wasn’t it enough?_

Tsukishima feels guilty accusing him like that. He should know better.

There’s still so much to say, but Tsukishima doesn’t know where to start. He bites his lip. He hopes Yamaguchi knows he’s trying his hardest.

“Tadashi, I… I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you,” he glances to Yamaguchi’s bedroom door which he closed on the way in for some privacy. “I don’t think I want to.”

_You were the best thing that ever happened to me. _

That’s what Tsukishima means to say but he thinks he’s pushed himself enough for today. He hopes Yamaguchi can hear the sub-text. Tsukishima swallows his pride again.

“I miss you,” he takes another deep breath. “I should’ve been a better friend to you, I’m sorry.”

Tsukishima listens to the clock tick for a minute. He begins to panic when he remembers it’s counting down their final moments together.

“Tadashi, what am I meant to do now?” Tsukishima’s eyes begin to sting. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t a part of our plan. Didn’t you want to go to college together? Be roommates?” 

Tsukishima hears a knock on the front door of the house and his ears perk up. He recognises the voices of the caretakers and then he remembers – _they’re here to take Yamaguchi away. _

_Shit._

_I’m not ready. _

“Tadashi—” He looks so peaceful. “I can’t do this.” His heart picks up the pace as the voices get louder. Words clog his mouth.

_I’ll never forget you._

_You’re insane if you think I will._

_You’re my best friend._

He hopes Yamaguchi can hear his thoughts instead. 

Tsukishima cups his hand on Yamaguchi’s cheek again. He tries to memorise as many details as he can. _The tiny scar by his nose. The shape of his eyebrows. The bit of fringe that falls between his eyes. The protruding cheekbones.   
_  
There’s the sound of footsteps on the stairs and Tsukishima’s head starts to whirl again. _I don’t think I’m ready. _

There’s a knock at the door. 

“Ah—wait—one second, please!”

Tsukishima strokes Yamaguchi’s hair one final time –_was it always this soft? _– and looks at Yamaguchi’s face and tries to steady his breathing. He places a quick kiss to Yamaguchi’s forehead and even though it feels wildly out of character for them, Tsukishima read last night it’s what people supposedly do when they say goodbye. At least Yamaguchi can’t see his face as it begins to burn from embarrassment.

_Goodbye, Tadashi. _

He can’t say it. So, he says something a bit more natural for the both of them. 

“See you tomorrow, Tadashi.”   
  
Tsukishima places the sheet back over Yamaguchi’s face and smooths it out. After one last look, he gathers the energy to get up and open the bedroom door. Yamaguchi’s mother steps in. She says something and places a hand on his shoulder. It’s probably meant to be comforting but Tsukishima flinches at the touch, though she doesn’t seem to notice. She says something else and Tsukishima finds himself nodding at whatever it is. It doesn’t matter. Nothing really matters now. 

Tsukishima can’t bring himself to look back because he’ll probably totally lose it and his depart from Yamaguchi was nice enough.

Tsukishima steps out the bedroom and this godforsaken alternate universe without Yamaguchi begins.

\- 

Tsukishima goes to the wake in the evening, but everything blurs together. He thinks he remembers the volleyball club being there for a little while, but his mother’s strong grip on his elbow manages to keep him away from them as if they’re some kind of disease. He does remember even the loud-mouthers of the team being silent for a change and how Yachi quietly cried.

He remembers the memorial photo – it was one Tsukishima had taken on his new camera when the two of them had gone out for the weekend. The photo was a few months old, but Yamaguchi was grinning ear-to-ear in the sunshine. Tsukishima secretly loved that photo. He was proud of how it captured the way he saw Yamaguchi perfectly. Yamaguchi had set that photo as his display picture on the few social media accounts he had and received plenty of attention when he did so.

Tsukishima thinks about that photo and that weekend for the rest of the evening and when he gets home, finds the memory card holding the original file. He looks at the rest of the photos he took that weekend before making several copies of each one, transferring them to a USB stick, emailing them to himself twice and uploading them to a cloud storage – just in case. Just in case. Now Yamaguchi was gone, nothing was truly safe. 

Tsukishima doesn’t sleep that night and goes for another 4am run. The quiet streets and cool air help refresh his head and the heat in his cheeks remind him he’s still alive. He manages to have a nap once he gets home and before he knows it, he’s at Yamaguchi’s funeral. Like the night before, the ceremony doesn’t really make any sense and Tsukishima stares at the memorial photo for most of it.

He’s asked to be a part of the service that picks out the bones from the ashes of Yamaguchi’s cremation and in all honestly, Tsukishima thinks it’s quite invasive and he knows Yamaguchi would find it weird, but he keeps his mouth shut and his face straight. This part of the funeral seems to take forever, picking up every bit of bone with the special chopsticks in silence. It takes an awful lot of concentration and Tsukishima is grateful for the nap he managed to have this morning.

When all the bones are collected in the small pot, Tsukishima and his mother leave to go home to allow for Yamaguchi’s family to have some privacy.

_You should say thank you to the Yamaguchis for letting you be a part of the funeral._

_Only close family are traditionally meant to be there after the cremation, you know._

Tsukishima stares blankly at his mother who drives them home. Why didn’t she tell him that before so that he could’ve thanked them before he left? Now he just looks rude. 

Tsukishima hangs up his black blazer and puts the rest of his suit in the laundry basket when he gets home. Once he’s closed his bedroom door and sits on his bed, he realises, _oh, this is it. _This is life without Yamaguchi.

It’s boring, and quite empty, to say the least.


	6. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for my inconsistent uploading

Time is flying, soaring by and what feels like minutes is actually weeks and Tsukishima forgets how he spends them.

Tsukishima is worrying about a time in his life where he would have been without Yamaguchi longer than he was with him. He thinks it's rather fascinating, how, even after all those years together, Yamaguchi thought it was okay to take what parts of Tsukishima he had in his heart to the grave without even considering giving them back first.

Tsukishima would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered chasing Yamaguchi to the grave to retrieve parts of himself back. He knows he’s always been quite apathetic around everyone else at the best of times, but it was Yamaguchi who had seen all the sides of him and Yamaguchi seemed to carry that fact with pride. Tsukishima knows he’s a hard one to crack, he’d been told that a hundred times, but with Yamaguchi, showing his relaxed personality when they were alone had been natural, easy.

And now he would be expected to open up to someone else.

Tsukishima can’t bear the thought of it. To replace Yamaguchi, that would be an impossible task. It wasn’t even worth entertaining, so, Tsukishima decides he will continue to be alone with the half of him that Yamaguchi had left behind.

Tsukishima goes back to school eventually, because it’s better than staring at a blank wall for days on end with his mother fussing over him every hour. He knows she’s just worried about him, but it’s really quite suffocating behavior and maybe his mother and all the forums online are right when they say it’s best to go back into a routine to help cope with the loss.

Cope. To cope. Coping. What is that meant to mean in a world where you lose the one person who really mattered?

The first day back to school without Yamaguchi is devasting. It’s all the little details Tsukishima notices the most: wearing his headphones all the way to school, spending lunch alone, no one to speak to in corridors when he walks to his next classes. And then there’s the worst one of all: the empty desk. Tsukishima’s heart tears a little bit more each time he glances over to look at Yamaguchi’s concentration face out of habit, only to find the seat empty, and he has to spend the next five minutes keeping himself together.

What he finds on returning to school is that he seems to be a lot more visible now. People stare at him in class, in the hallways, in the entrance, outside the gym a hell of a lot more. Tsukishima hates it. He knows what they’re thinking – the bad best friend who killed Yamaguchi Tadashi from his neglect.

_Why didn’t you notice anything?_

_Didn’t he tell you?_

_Surely you knew something. _

Any time he catches someone staring, he feels the whispers at his back and the anxiety cave in, drawing nearer, leaving feather touches on his arms and legs and that one torturous thought in his head: _why didn’t you know?_

Tsukishima doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why he didn’t know, why he didn’t notice, why Yamaguchi didn’t say anything. 

He’s been through these questions a million times since the day he found out Yamaguchi died, and he doesn’t come any closer to an answer. 

_I don’t know. _

_I don’t know. _

_He didn’t tell me anything. _

_Please stop staring at me._

Tsukishima scratches his head and his arms and his legs and the part of his chest where his heart beats underneath his skin to ease the itches, but it doesn’t help, or not that much, anyway. 

He knows the rest of the volleyball club are probably thinking the same thing, but at least they spend more time watching the ball in play or Ukai than they look at Tsukishima. He’s aware that they stare at him sympathetically when his back his turned, but at least he can’t see it. He doesn’t want their sympathy, their pity, their apologies. He doesn’t want any of it.

So, he keeps it all in. He doesn’t tell anyone the gym feels empty without Yamaguchi in it, he doesn’t tell anyone he doesn’t want to be here, nor does he tell them he doesn’t want practice to end, either. He wants to keep running, wants to keep watching the ball, wants to keep thinking about the next play, just so he’s thinking about something else.

Even so, when practice does end, he can’t wait to leave because they’re getting more uncomfortable. The practices go on and Tsukishima doesn't always attend. When he does, Yamaguchi's missing presence has ripped a huge hole from the atmosphere and the effect consumes all the first, second and third years. Even the managers and Ukai and Takeda are gentler. Their moves are carefully calculated, no one talks excessively, and no one jokes anymore.

There's a strain on all of them and Tsukishima feels even less of a part of it than he did before. Even though they all smiled at him from the second he walked into the gym for the first time since he went back to school, he feels more alienated than cared for, even when Sugawara put a hand on his shoulder and said _'it's good to have you back'_, and smiled genuinely, Tsukishima’s only thought was that he should've never came back. 

As practices go on, one thing becomes painfully obvious:

It's Tsukishima, and them.

The gap that separates them is too wide, not that it really matters, especially when Tsukishima realises he doesn't really like any of them. He turns to Yamaguchi to make this comment and is surprised, again, that his spot is empty. 

His heart plummets. 

How long is it going to take before that habit breaks?

"Tsukishima, hey, Tsukishima." 

That's Sugawara's voice. Tsukishima can hear it, but it feels like he's underwater and the words are muffled and a million miles away. He can't breathe, devastation filling his lungs like water.

Tanaka howls with laughter.

It brings Tsukishima back down to Earth.

"How can you laugh at a time like this?" Tsukishima snaps at Tanaka, who freezes. The laughter stops. Tsukishima's heart is still sinking.

Tsukishima absentmindedly waits for a tug on his sleeve. It doesn't come.

"Sorry, Tsukishima."

Rage boils in his blood. He keeps his mouth shut, more for Yamaguchi's sake than his own. He picks up his towel and water bottle and leaves and vows to himself to never come back again.

No one chases Tsukishima to the club room, which makes Tsukishima realise he’s truly alone, now. He’s left what was his only social group he had left. Tsukishima supposes it doesn’t really matter – they only liked him for his blocks, and outside of the gym, nobody was interested in him anyway. Once they play their first match without him and replace him with a second year, they won’t miss him. Yamaguchi would be disappointed that he quit the club, but it can’t be helped. It was going to happen sooner or later.

_It’s just not the same without you. _

_My entire life has been turned upside down and that doesn’t make the club any different. _

And the volleyball club was just that: a club. It doesn’t matter. He’ll just find something else to do after school.

Tsukishima lets himself recover for five minutes in the club room while he’s alone. When he can breathe a little better and his heart doesn’t feel so crushed in his chest, he doesn’t bother to change and puts his uniform in his bag, placing his headphones on and starting the music. He leaves the club room without a final backwards glance and starts the walk home. It’s been a month now and walking home alone with his headphones on for the whole journey is still something he hasn’t adjusted to.

Back at Karasuno, Kiyoko discreetly places another order for replacement uniforms for numbers 11 and 12.

-

Tsukishima finds that in the evenings, all he wants to do is look at photos of Yamaguchi. He’s got a few video clips of him too, so he watches those on repeat when he’s meant to be studying. Tsukishima doesn’t want to forget his voice, his laugh, his smile. The clips let him relive all three. As long as he doesn’t forget, Tsukishima thinks he can make it through the present day.

It’s the night when it’s hardest. Tsukishima battles with himself to stay awake, because in his sleep he sees Yamaguchi die a hundred times in a hundred different ways, and there’s no way Tsukishima can save him. And then when he wakes up, he has to remember it’s not just a nightmare. 

It all comes flooding back and knocks him into 9th September and he has relive the loss of Yamaguchi all over again. The pain will be as fresh as it was that day if he’s lucky, or it’ll be worse than the day before. It burns into his mind and soul and heart all at once and his ribs will feel too big underneath his skin. The pain, the hurt, the heartbreak is nothing short of paralysing, and Tsukishima is expected to get out of bed and live normally without Yamaguchi.

This weekend, Tsukishima wakes up and remembers the phone with the unread messages. Even though Tsukishima is wanting answers, he’s not sure he’s ready for them yet but the least he can do for Yamaguchi is give him the time he should’ve given him before he died. Maybe he’d still be here if he hadn’t been so wrapped up in himself.

The phone has ran out of battery since the last time Tsukishima shoved it back in the drawer, so he puts it on charge again and waits anxiously for it to come to life. When it does, the notification bubble stares at him in red.

_200 unread messages._

Tsukishima’s heart starts to hammer in his chest, but even still, he clicks to the first one.

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 10th March, 10:01pm**  
  
_hey_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 10th March, 10:05pm**

_there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you but I’m too embarrassed to tell you face-to-face  
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 10th March, 10:09pm**

_I haven’t been feeling too good for a while now  
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 10th March, 10:11pm**  
  
_I can’t sleep and I am so sad all the time  
_

Tsukishima thinks he’s going to be sick. 

_Oh god._

_Why didn’t you just text me on the number I was using, you idiot?! _

Tsukishima puts the phone back down and takes some deep breaths.

_Is this it? How many of 204 messages are your cries for help? _

Tsukishima taps onto the next message.

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 10th March, 10:13pm**  
  
_I don’t know why I feel like this  
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 10th March, 10:13pm**

_I mean everything is kind of fine  
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 10th March, 10:17pm**

_I told my mum and she sent me to the doctors and they said I’m probably fine, just hormones  
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 10th March, 10:30pm**

_I don’t think hormones are supposed to make you want to kill yourself, Tsukki   
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 10th March, 10:32pm**

_sorry _

Tsukishima can’t breathe. He can’t believe this. He throws the phone back into his drawer – that’s enough for today. His hands shake violently and then he’s sobbing, burying his head into his pillow. But oh god, it just _hurts_, it hurts everywhere, and now to top it off his head is going to throb now he’s crying _again_. He’s sick of it.

Tsukishima curls himself into a ball and pulls the duet back over his head. The pain is unbearable – he won’t be getting out of bed today.

This was too much, too soon. But it’s what he has to do. The least he can do. Yamaguchi deserves this, at least.

_What if Yamaguchi had just texted him on his new number? _

_What if I knew what was going on?_

_What if I could help?_

_Would you still be here? _

Tsukishima does the maths in his head: 191 messages to go.


	7. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've found that with each upload, I feel like I get a piece of me back that I lost in 2017. I haven't felt this much like myself ever in my life, and I think it's because I pour so much of myself into this, that I'm finally letting go of things I never got to tell anyone 
> 
> this fic really is like therapy to me, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you for continuing to listen to me ♥

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 28th April, 9:58am**

_I have a secret _  


**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 28th April, 10:03am**

_do you want to hear it?  
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 28th April, 10:05am**

_I’ll tell you anyway  
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 28th April, 10:06am**

_I’m going to have a few counselling sessions  
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 28th April, 10:11am**

_The doctors have told me I’m not very well. My brain is sick_  


**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 28th April, 10:27am**

_I’ve only gotten worse since the last time I texted you and no one seems to notice_  
  
  
-  


Tsukishima never liked those zombie movies, so he hates to admit that he feels like one of the undead as he continues living each day. Tsukishima feels very detached to the present – he can sense himself moving, breathing, answering questions – but he can’t remember making the decisions to do any of these things. He spends most of the time in his head, replaying as many memories of Yamaguchi that he can remember, though that’s not as many as it should be. He needs a prompt – a photo, an online post, a receipt, a ticket – to remember more. Tsukishima writes single sentences for each memory in his phone so that he doesn’t forget, and all his prompts are in one place. 

Remembering takes a lot of energy, and it’s draining to try to seek as much detail as he can for each memory. Even though Tsukishima is constantly exhausted, he knows the human brain fade his memories more and more each day, so Tsukishima is trying his best to recall as many as he can. It’s frustrating though, because compared to all those years they’d spent together, Tsukishima is certain he’s only got enough memories to make up less than a year. All their conversations from their walks to and from school, all their sleepovers, everything in between — lost.

While he’s not doing his best to memorise his time with Yamaguchi, he’s picturing him dead. The memory of Yamaguchi lying under those sheets - his skin is sickly grey and ice cold and his body unmoving - haunts Tsukishima everywhere. He sees that scene whenever he closes his eyes and in his nightmares, which are far too vivid.

Not only that, but Dead Yamaguchi has distorted the memories. This new Yamaguchi that Tsukishima remembers has a sad smile and even sadder eyes, but Tsukishima never saw Yamaguchi like that — he was generally cheerful and always talking to him, or the first years, especially Hinata.

Tsukishima feels guilty thinking about Hinata. Hinata’s texted him a couple of times, but Tsukishima couldn’t bear to read them and ignored him. It’s not as if either of them could provide the other one comfort, and Tsukishima knows Hinata would end up pissing him off by accident and he’d remark with something nasty like ‘_he wasn’t your friend, he was mine’_.

Anyway, the king was probably looking after him in their own way by playing even more volleyball, until Hinata’s hand goes numb and Kageyama’s arms couldn’t take the strain anymore. Hinata lets his emotion roam all over his face and Kageyama’s trained eyes could always pick up the slightest change in his mood. They’d be okay. They had each other.

Tsukishima can’t help but feel jealous about that. At least Kageyama wouldn’t let Hinata slip too far away, unlike Tsukishima who had let Yamaguchi die alone.

_Tch_. Tsukishima tries to cut himself some slack — Yamaguchi and Hinata are two different types of people. Hinata wears his heart on his sleeve, whereas Yamaguchi hid himself behind a wall of lies.

_What if I had been more observant? _

_What if Yamaguchi trusted me more?_  
  
What if I didn’t let things go as easily?

_What if, what if, what if.  
_

-

_Tsukishima stands outside their favourite cafe. Yamaguchi is late, which isn’t particularly unusual, but he’s nearly an hour late now, which way beyond outside Yamaguchi’s 15-minute window. He’s not picking up his phone when Tsukishima calls and he hasn’t answered any of his texts. _

_Tsukishima double-checks the date on his phone again: 2nd December, a Sunday. He goes through previous texts with Yamaguchi and finds they definitely were supposed to meet today._

_Tsukishima’s glad he wore his scarf now that’s been standing outside for longer than usual. This cafe plan will have to be missed today, which is a bit annoying considering it’s a part of their new Sunday study routine. Tsukishima goes into the cafe and orders two hot chocolates, one with cream, to go. _

_Tsukishima walks to Yamaguchi’s house and is welcomed in by his mother who lets Tsukishima know her son is still sleeping. Tsukishima rolls his eyes and once he’s taken off his coat and scarf and changed his shoes to slippers, goes upstairs to Yamaguchi’s room. _ _He knocks on the door once, twice, three times and he thinks he hears Yamaguchi stir, so he slides the door open and lets himself in. _

_“Yamaguchi.” _

_“Huh? Tsukki…” Yamaguchi mumbles, still buried under his duvet. He turns over and opens an eye. “Tsukki…?” _

_“Yamaguchi, it’s Sunday.” _

_“Hmmm?” Yamaguchi’s bed hair and tired eyes isn’t something you can be annoyed at, rather, Tsukishima has to stifle a laugh because he can nearly hear Yamaguchi’s head thinking over this situation like clockwork. “Oh… oh! Sorry, Tsukki! Let me take a shower!” _

_“Don’t worry about it, I brought the cafe to you.” Tsukishima holds out the hot chocolate with cream to Yamaguchi and he positively _ _beams_ _. Tsukishima can nearly see the stars around him like they do in the mangas. _

_“Thanks, Tsukki!” He sits cross-legged on the bed and takes the top off the cup. “Ooooh, you even remembered the cream! You’re the best, Tsukki!” _

_“Huh? It’s just a hot chocolate, don’t worry about it.” Tsukishima hasn’t seen Yamaguchi this happy about anything in a long time, especially over something so small, but something about Yamaguchi is off. “Yamaguchi.”_

_“Hmm?” _

_“Are you okay?” _

_That catches Yamaguchi off guard. He turns a little nervous, staring into the paper cup. “I’m fine.” _

_You’re lying._

_“You’re not,” Yamaguchi flinches. “What is it?”_

_“Umm…” Yamaguchi trails off. He looks quite uncomfortable, but Tsukishima will be damned if he lets this go so easily. “I’m just nervous about those tests next week.” _

_“Huh? You know I said I’d help you study for those. That’s why we were meeting up today, remember?” _

_“Oh, yeah! Sorry, Tsukki!” _

_“So, what’s the real problem?” _

_“Ahh… I’m a bad liar, aren’t I?” Yamaguchi grins sheepishly, one hand playing with his hair. _

_“You always have been,” Tsukishima sighs. When Yamaguchi’s upset, getting him to talk was like getting blood out of stone. _

_A few moments pass. _

_“Tsukki, I…” Yamaguchi bites his lip. “Umm… actually, it’s kind of embarrassing.” _

_“What is it?” _

_“Umm… Can I… Can I have a hug?” Yamaguchi turns a brilliant shade of red. _

_Tsukishima’s expression is unreadable. He’s taken aback, to the least. Sure, they’ve always been good friends since Tsukishima realised he liked having him around, but they were never ones for physical contact. Tsukishima thought Yamaguchi was just like him — people were fine, at a distance — but turns out Yamaguchi _does _like affection, like everyone else. _

_“Ah, Tsukki! Don’t worry about it, forget it, I just, umm…” Yamaguchi trips over his words a few more times while Tsukishima shakes off his shock. _

_“Don’t be stupid, Yamaguchi. It’s fine."_

_Tsukishima moves to sit on the edge of Yamaguchi’s bed and Yamaguchi, still blushing hard, shuffles closer to Tsukishima. When he’s close enough, Tsukishima wraps his arms around Yamaguchi and pulls him in. Yamaguchi wraps his arms around Tsukishima, his hands meeting at his back, and sighs. He buries his head into Tsukishima’s shoulder, and then he stays there. _

_Tsukishima decides this isn’t so bad, even if the positioning of Yamaguchi still being cross-legged makes it a little awkward, but they can work on that. Tsukishima isn’t able think more of it because Yamaguchi starts to tremble, and Tsukishima’s shirt starts getting wet. Yamaguchi hardly ever cries now, unless it’s at a film, so Tsukishima decides he will ask him about it another day and holds Yamaguchi as closely as he can._  
  
-

Tsukishima didn’t ask Yamaguchi about that afternoon.

He didn’t forget about it, but after that, Yamaguchi went back to normal, so he didn’t think to bring it up again, especially since Yamaguchi spent the rest of the afternoon seemingly uneasy and self-conscious. 

_What if I asked you about that Sunday? Would you tell me the truth? Would you still be here?_

Tsukishima supposes that, looking back on it now, that day was quite significant, because after that, Yamaguchi got a hug each time Tsukishima and Yamaguchi went their separate ways.  
  
\- 

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 3rd May, 8:21pm**  
  
_do you remember when I asked you to hug me to for the first time last year?_  


**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 3rd May, 8:24pm**

_I was so embarrassed about it but I think that week I had a really bad week with my head and that night I slept 15 hours and I probably would’ve slept more if you hadn’t woken me up tbh  
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 3rd May, 8:26pm**

_your hug made me feel much better tho :) _ _I always feel better after your hugs even tho you hate it lmao_  


**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 3rd May, 8:27pm**

_And you got me that hot chocolate with the cream!!! You always make me so happy without even trying, tsukki _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter is full of typos/sounds a bit awkward but I'll go back over this one to edit it slightly when I'm a bit less tired


	8. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one might be full of typos/awkward parts but I will edit it properly soon! sorry it's been a little while!

“Oi.” 

Tsukishima spends his school lunch hours buried under his headphones, getting lost in musical symphonies and his most recent addition to his music player: Yamaguchi’s playlist of his all-time favourite songs. When he rests his head on his folded arms with his eyes closed, Tsukishima can kid himself that he’s spending time with Yamaguchi. He doesn’t tell anyone that he feels closer to Yamaguchi this way – he doesn’t want to concern his family any further, especially when being alone is desperately needed time after a day of being around other people and his mother is already doing her best to push herself into the time he spends secluded in his bedroom.

It’s because he spends so much time under his headphones and alone these days that hearing ‘oi’ directed at him makes him flinch. He looks up and sees Kageyama, hands buried in his pockets with a stern look on his face. Tsukishima feels a bit less anxious when he sees it’s his old teammate, but it’s still an unwelcomed interruption to his daily routine. No one comes near Tsukishima anymore as if the whole school had unanimously agreed that he was on trial on murder, and Tsukishima definitely felt like he was paying the price of Yamaguchi’s suicide.

Tsukishima takes off his headphones and he can feel the eyes of everyone in the classroom on them both, probably wary of Kageyama’s safety. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to talk.” At least Kageyama’s talent of being completely oblivious to everything at all times leaves him unwaived to the attention and Tsukishima feels another pang of jealousy. Not only was Kageyama _not _lonely, he didn’t get nervous about unwanted attention, even if he noticed it.

Tsukishima sighs and leads them out of them classroom without a word. Kageyama follows a step behind and stands in front of Tsukishima when they come to a stop outside.

“What is it? I’m not going to help you study, if that’s what you’re going to ask.” Tsukishima folds his arms and takes half a step backwards to put some more space between them for more room to breathe.

“Why did you bring us all the way out here?”

_Because I don’t want people to stare at me. Outside is quieter. The classroom has too much stimulation and I wouldn’t be able to focus on what you’re saying. I wanted some air. _

“I-is it a problem?” Kageyama definitely noticed the wobble in Tsukishima’s voice and cocks an eyebrow, but doesn’t say mention it. Tsukishima wants to cry. He just wants to be left alone. He didn’t ask for this. “What do you want?” He repeats.

“Umm… It was actually Hinata who wanted to talk to you, but he knows you hate him, so…” 

Tsukishima tries to ignore the feeling of guilt in his stomach. “So, you’re passing on a message?”

“No, I- we- _he _wanted to ask a question.”

“Spit it out.” 

“Uhh… How are you?”

Tsukishima blinks.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

He didn’t expect that. No one’s asked Tsukishima that in a while. The last person to ask him was most likely Yamaguchi, on their last morning walk to school together.

Tsukishima has to think about the answer. He knows from the outside it looks like he’s dealing with it and he can see why people think that: Tsukishima wakes up and goes to school with his hair brushed and teeth clean every day. He knows that to those on the outside, he is functioning, but what they don’t know is that it takes every inch of energy to even get out of bed in the first place. He’ll admit that the hot shower helps, and he doesn’t feel so numb afterwards, but after he hangs his school bag from his shoulder and steps out the door, the fate of the day is left to the gods. Tsukishima’s head switches to automatic mode and none of the decisions he makes are his. At best, Tsukishima remembers to turn on the voice recorder on his phone so he can review his lessons another day and watches his hands take down notes in class that he doesn’t hear. At worst, Tsukishima blinks and the lunch bell is already ringing in his ears and his workbook is blank, along with a cramp in his wrist from resting his head in his head for the morning. Tsukishima doesn’t know what happens to those hours of classes. 

_Does Hinata know? Is that why he’s asking?_

Tsukishima feels like he might let his perfect act slip if he’s not careful, but Kageyama’s question break the dam and now he can’t help it. His vision blurs and he throws his hands up to his face to hide it. He does his best to swallow back a sob, but he chokes anyway. And _oh god, _this is just _so embarrassing. _Trust the king of the court to be the one to unscrew the lid and be the one to watch Tsukishima fall apart. 

Kageyama doesn’t say anything but Tsukishima doesn’t know if that makes it better or worse. Tsukishima takes a deep breath and blinks a few times to get himself together as quickly as he broke down, screws the lid back on his emotions, and roughly wipes away the wetness on his cheeks. When he has the courage to take his hands away from his face, Kageyama is holding out a tissue. He doesn’t look as awkward as Tsukishima pictured him to be, but he still feels completely humiliated. 

Tsukishima takes the tissue and mutters a thanks.

Tsukishima can’t look him in the eye, so after he blows his nose, stares at the tissue that he keeps clutched in his hand. Kageyama doesn’t make an excuse to leave, and Tsukishima finds himself glad that Kageyama stays. It’s little awkward, but the silence with another person is kind of nice, and the pressure of loneliness eases, even if ever so slight.

For a wild moment, Tsukishima considers telling Kageyama about Yamaguchi’s texts he’s kept so secret, but Tsukishima decides to keep them to himself. Kageyama’s a one-track mind idiot, but he never did anything wrong besides piss Tsukishima off and he doesn’t deserve the weight of the guilt and anticipation. Besides, Tsukishima wants to keep that side of Yamaguchi to himself, even though he knows it’s selfish. 

Tsukishima is pretty sure that’s what sums him up: selfish. He was someone who always spent too much time on himself and not enough on things that actually mattered, like Yamaguchi. The texts were painful, painful reminders of that.

Kageyama watches as Tsukishima’s face falls again. He’s never been the best at being empathetic to other people’s feelings, but the last few weeks he’s spent with Hinata who sometimes bursts into tears at the most random times had forced Kageyama to become an expert in that department, and now he can see Tsukishima getting way too deep inside of his own head.

“Oi,” Kageyama sees Tsukishima snap himself out of it. “If it were Hinata—”

“Don’t.” Tsukishima spits.

“I was just going to say—”

“I said, _don’t_. This is completely different,” Tsukishima glances at Kageyama’s face and sees he’s looking sheepish. He knows Kageyama won’t approach him again after this, so he may as well say it. “Yamaguchi killed himself because he didn’t trust me. Hinata’s alive because he talks to you. I was friends with Yamaguchi for seven years, you two have been paired up for less than a year. Don’t you see the difference?”

If Kageyama wasn’t embarrassed before, he definitely is now. His cheeks are flushed but he’s listening and that’s the bare minimum Tsukishima could ask for right now, from anyone.

“S-sorry,” Kageyama splutters, but it doesn’t make Tsukishima feel any better.

“You can tell Hinata that I’m fine. But if you really must know how I’m feeling, then I feel like shit all the time, and my birthday next week is going to suck.” Tsukishima nearly kicks himself when he hears what he’s just said, there’s no need to be so rude and abrupt, especially when Kageyama is the only one _trying_, but for some reason he can’t control his mouth. “Goodbye.”

Tsukishima puts his headphones back on to block out the world, and goes back to class.

-

Tsukishima’s birthday comes around, and it is by far the worst one yet. Tsukishima was never the biggest fan of his own birthday, but he liked the minimal plans that occurred every year – Yamaguchi would come over, they would go out for dinner and then go to their favourite dessert café for a sweet treat, then Tsukishima would go back to Yamaguchi’s house for a sleepover while they had a marathon of horror movies or binge-watch their favourite anime together. They’d eat too many sweets, Yamaguchi would get a high from the sugar and then they’d go to sleep after staying up talking for as long as they could. They were simple birthday plans, but it was enough for Tsukishima without being overwhelming and Yamaguchi would feel like he had been a part of it. 

Tsukishima’s mother lets him have his birthday off school. He thinks he’s meant to be grateful but learning English this morning definitely would’ve been a better avoidance tactic than being at home. _There’s a surprise waiting downstairs for you_, Hisae smiles. Tsukishima’s heart nearly leaps out his throat.

_Yamaguchi? _

Tsukishima jumps out of bed and hurriedly takes the stairs and he finds it’s not Yamaguchi, but Akiteru. Tsukishima tries his hardest to keep the disappointment from his face, but his heart feels like it’s just plummeted, even though in his head he’s telling himself to stop being so stupid.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

_Dead people don’t come back to life. _

“What’s up, Kei?” Akiteru waves and smiles. 

_Why did it take you so long to come home?_

It takes Akiteru’s smile to falter and his mother to freeze for Tsukishima to realise he said that aloud. It’s strange, that out of the three of them, the one most shocked by the question is Tsukishima. He bites his tongue before he can say something else that’s hurtful, but doesn’t apologise. He doesn’t take it back. Why should he?

“I’m sorry, Kei.” Akiteru means it – Tsukishima can see it in his face and he was never one for bullshit apologies. Nevertheless, Tsukishima feels a grudge bubbling underneath his disappointment, but he should know better. Tsukishima should know that his brother’s way of working through things was dealing with the initial hit alone, after all, Akiteru had known Yamaguchi for just as long as he had. Everyone has different grieving processes, Tsukishima knows that, he _knows _and yet, he thinks it might be nice if people thought of him, just once.

\- 

They spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon watching movies in the living room on the couch. Tsukishima hugs a cushion to his chest because unlike Yamaguchi, he didn’t have the guts to ask someone for a hug, so a cushion will have to do as a replacement.

Instead of actively watching the movie currently playing, Tsukishima’s mind taunts him by thinking about the small details of Yamaguchi’s hugs that he so desperately misses: Yamaguchi’s chin on his shoulder. The warmth of Yamaguchi’s head next to his hand own. Yamaguchi’s hair tickling his nose. The feeling of Yamaguchi wrapping his arms around him. Yamaguchi pushing himself up against his chest. In the right setting, Tsukishima can close his eyes and feel Yamaguchi there. Sometimes he falls asleep picturing it because it’s the only thing that can send him peacefully to sleep. The static cotton cushion couldn’t compare in the slightest, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Tsukishima doesn’t know when he went from tolerating Yamaguchi’s hugs to almost enjoying them, but he could almost hate Yamaguchi for setting him up like this because of how much he desperately misses them now that he doesn’t have a hug at the end of each day. He didn’t tell anyone about this character development, that was private, between Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, but being this touch starved was becoming ridiculous and it had only been less than 3 weeks since Yamaguchi left him.

Tsukishima remembers his last touch with Yamaguchi quite vividly. He can’t stop obsessing over it. After all, it was the last time he saw Yamaguchi alive and Tsukishima feels like he’s getting closer to untangling the memory.

Tsukishima is pretty sure he hadn’t worn his headphones while walking back from school that day and was listening to Yamaguchi talk about the universe, but he’s not certain on that because his brain has blanked out all the conversations they had on the way home. Tsukishima has considered that he has convinced himself to believe he wasn’t wearing any headphones to make himself feel better and to believe he was present in his last moments with Yamaguchi. Tsukishima thinks he’s replayed the same memory over and over again that he’s starting to confuse reality and ideal imagination.

He’s pretty sure about not wearing headphones though, because the two of them had gone to their cafe which was so close to the school that Tsukishima wouldn’t have been able to listen to a song in its entirety. Yamaguchi had insisted they go for a hot chocolate all day and when they got there, Yamaguchi had ordered extra cream with his. He always had cream, but extra cream was out of the ordinary. 

_Did you have that extra cream because you knew you were going to die?_

And without fail, Yamaguchi always took a photo of his hot chocolate with pile of cream on top to add to his online social media story, and sometimes a candid of Tsukishima when he wasn’t looking. Except this time, the last time, he didn’t take any photos. He didn’t even check his phone, not once, and he didn’t attempt conversation with Tsukishima, who enjoyed having his hot chocolate in peace.

This time, Yamaguchi left his phone in his pocket and curled up on the booth seat next to the window and watched the world go by through the glass. He seemed so absorbed by the outside that he didn’t even notice Tsukishima watching him.

_God, just how many of these hints were being pushed right in front of my fucking face?_

They just weren’t alarming, that’s Tsukishima’s excuse. That’s all he’s got. Just because someone doesn’t check their phone doesn’t mean they’ll take their own life the same night.

And yet, as much as Tsukishima hates to admit it, that wasn’t all. Yamaguchi had hugged him earlier in the walk than usual, they still had some time to go before they reached the intersection. Yamaguchi had stopped them in front of a small store and Tsukishima had taken a moment to glance at their reflection in the shop’s windows. He had noticed that Yamaguchi was on his tip-toes, and once he noticed that, he started noticing everything else. He had noticed that this time, Yamaguchi was clutching him quite tightly, so Tsukishima returned the favour, and then after that, they stayed like that for quite some time. It had made Tsukishima think about the first time back in December and something in his gut told Tsukishima something was wrong. Something was _off. _But Tsukishima had pushed away the thought, even when Yamaguchi had eventually pulled away and he looked teary. He pushed away the thought again when Yamaguchi hesitated to leave.

_He tried to tell me. _

_I knew something was wrong. _

_I didn’t ask. _

_This is all my fault. _

Yamaguchi always spoke through his actions and not his words, Tsukishima should know this. Tsukishima should know, Tsukishima _knew_, and yet, Yamaguchi’s ashes were on top of the family’s mantel instead. 

Tsukishima had one, two, three, four, five final chances to save his best friend, and yet Yamaguchi was still dead.

_Some best friend._


	9. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for 111 kudos!!!! <3

Tsukishima rests his forehead against the outside of the ceramic toilet bowl. Any other day, Tsukishima would know that’s a probably gross thing to do, but the shock of the cold against his hot forehead is helping stabilise him. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ignore the presence of Akiteru gawking at him from the bathroom door. 

Akiteru finally breaks the silence. “What... _happened?_” Tsukishima knows that’s not all he wants to ask. “You were there next to me, and then suddenly you were running out the room.”

_Akiteru, I think I killed Yamaguchi._

“I thought I was going to be sick.” Tsukishima wants Akiteru to go away so he can start his new routine of slowing down his heart and maybe have a nap. He’s tired now.

“Kei, did you have a panic attack?”

_I think I killed him._

“I don’t know what that is.”

“I think you had a panic attack, Kei.”

_At the very least, I let him die._

Tsukishima makes a mental note to research that later and hums in response.

Akiteru leaves, and Tsukishima finally lets himself breathe. He slowly inhales, and then exhales even slower, counting in his head.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

_Four._

_Five._

_Six._

Akiteru returns and quietly sets a glass down next to Tsukishima, who thinks about how’s he getting pretty sick of people bringing him water.

-

Tsukishima ends up spending the rest of his birthday with Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi’s mother comes over in the afternoon, and god, if Tsukishima thought if he was in a bad way, it’s nothing compared to Mai. Hisae notices it too. Tsukishima sees his mother greet Mai with a soft voice and even gentler touch, covering Mai’s hands with her own.

Tsukishima feels incredibly awkward when she enters the living room and for a moment forgets his manners.

“No, please, please stay seated, Kei-kun,” Mai starts when Tsukishima moves to stand. “I came to see you today.” Mai’s eyes don’t hold any hatred when Tsukishima eventually brings himself to look at her.

She doesn’t blame him, he realises. He wonders if that would change if she knew about the texts. Tsukishima doesn’t hold the eye contact any longer, worrying that if he looks on for too long, Mai will be able to see his secrets and guilt. Given that Tsukishima has been such a nervous wreck recently, he wasn’t going to risk it.

Hisae returns with a fresh pot of tea and pours a cup of each of them before settling at the coffee table next to Mai and a silence falls over the four. Akiteru sticks to Tsukishima’s side on the sofa, who keeps his focus on the small contact of their knees touching to keep him grounded. The silence is meant to be peaceful, but Tsukishima is suffocating, and he is just so, so tired.

Just as he starts willing for anyone to say anything, Mai gasps an ‘ah’ and starts rummaging through her bag. “Kei-kun, this came in the post for Tadashi, but we think it was meant for you,” Mai hands an open envelope addressed to Yamaguchi with his address printed on the front.

Akiteru takes Tsukishima’s cup from him when the tea starts to slosh and trails down his knuckles. Tsukishima doesn’t want to see what’s inside here, in front of all these people, but Mai’s sad face begs him otherwise. The envelope has been perfectly cut open with a knife, so he takes out what’s inside.

At first, Tsukishima doesn’t get it.

**Sendai Astronomical Observatory  
_27th September  
_** ** _Exhibition Room and Planetarium  
HS Student 600¥_ **

Tsukishima unfolds the edge of the ticket to find another one. He doesn’t get it.

His mind ticks.

Tickets to Sendai’s planetarium. He hasn’t been before.

27th September. His birthday.

Addressed to Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi paid for them.

Mai can see his blank expression, trying to work it out. “Kei-kun, we think this is Tadashi’s present to you. Happy birthday, Kei,” she smiles.

_Oh. _Yamaguchi’s final present.

Tsukishima unfolds the edge of the ticket. _There’s another one? Who was meant to come with us?_

Except, it’s not a ticket.

** _Note from buyer:_ **

** _To: Tsukki!!_ **

** _Happy 17th birthday!!_ **

** _Lets have a great today together!!_ **

** _Look up, I’ll be there!_ **

** _From: Yamaguchi ^^_ **

_-_

Tsukishima has to beg to go alone.

“Can’t any of your other friends from the club go with you?” His mother insists.

_I don’t speak to them anymore._

“I’ve asked them all, they can’t come on short notice and they’re still at school,” Tsukishima lies. “Please let me go. I can’t do anything stupid at the planetarium. This is Yamaguchi’s last present to me.”

He didn’t want to say it. It makes it too real, but it works.

Hisae drives Tsukishima and Akiteru to the planetarium, pays for a few hours of parking and finds the closest parking space to the entrance. She turns to Tsukishima who’s sitting in the passenger seat and sighs.

“You don’t need to do this alone, Kei. Let Akiteru go with you.”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

Hisae sighs and glances to Akiteru, in the backseat, for help. He shrugs. “Kei, we’ll be right here if you need anything,” Hisae sighs again, but Tsukishima’s already undone his seatbelt and deciding which playlist to listen to.

“Here, Kei, if you need anything, I’ll be in the passenger seat, _where I belong_.” Tsukishima rolls his eyes at Akiteru’s comment but has to suppress a laugh.

“See you later.” Tsukishima steps out the car the same time as Akiteru.

“Hey, Kei?” Akiteru tugs on Tsukishima’s hoody until he turns around. Tsukishima is caught off-guard when Akiteru tugs him into a tight embrace. “I’m here for you.” The hug is over as quickly as it started. Tsukishima just nods before heading to the entrance.

He puts his headphones on, pressing play on Yamaguchi’s playlist of favourite songs. Tsukishima doesn’t want to imagine Yamaguchi there beside him, chatting excitedly about the planetarium and his birthday, but he can’t help it. Yamaguchi, dressed down in his casual jeans folded up at the ends and his favourite baggy jumper, with the biggest grin on his face as he talks, is there.

He doesn’t deserve this side of Yamaguchi anymore, not when the real Yamaguchi is switched off and hidden in his bottom drawer because Tsukishima is too scared and ashamed to face him, but it’s his birthday, so let himself indulge for a while.

-

The exhibition part of the planetarium is bigger than Tsukishima thought it was. Huge models of the planets hang from the ceiling which is covered in a black fabric, and small lights poke through it to give the illusion of stars.

Yamaguchi was always a lover of the stars, and when Tsukishima slept over and had trouble sleeping or Yamaguchi fell asleep first, he’d find himself staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars tacked on Yamaguchi’s ceiling. Tsukishima’s mood falters when he thinks they’re glowing for no one these days.

The exhibition room is a little too bright for Tsukishima, so he spends the next two hours slowly browsing the exhibition, squinting when he reads the information boards. He takes his time, thinking of Yamaguchi, soaking in information. Yamaguchi’s favourite music in his ears limit having too much simulation and Tsukishima finds his visit quite pleasant, spending his time with Yamaguchi.

Tsukishima doesn’t really believe in the afterlife or ghosts or anything of the sort, but there’s a warmth beside him while he browses, and he feels the same kind of content he felt during his weekend study sessions and sleepovers with Yamaguchi.

For the first time in a while, he’s okay with being lonely. 

\- 

Tsukishima’s planetarium show is the last one of the day, 4:30pm. He joins the queue some 10 minutes before, and is pleasantly surprised when few people join.

The auditorium is designed for busy weekend shows in mind: tens of rows of reclining chairs stretch from side to side, leaving little room for the aisles at either ends. As the queue files in, Tsukishima opts for one of the back rows, his seat close to the aisle. He’s quite distant from everyone else who have spread out closer to the front, but the speaker either doesn’t mind or doesn’t notice when they look out to observe the crowd.

The entry door closes, and the whispers in the audience die down. At the same time, the lights dim to plunge the room into darkness, and even though he should’ve expected the dark, it catches him off guard and Tsukishima can’t help but feel a bit anxious. He’s not sure why or when he became antsy of the dark and he knows it’s stupid, but his heart picks up a bit of pace.

The darkness becomes a bit lighter as the projection begins to play.

The speaker beams, and Tsukishima shifts his focus to him.

“Everyone! Hello! Thank you for joining us at Sendai Astronomical Observatory today, and for joining me for today’s late afternoon showing!”

The speaker’s voice booms through the speakers behind Tsukishima, which takes some time getting used to while the speaker introduces them to the show, and Tsukishima has a moment of panic when all the chairsstart to elevate while backs begin to tilt.

He does his best to stay sitting up as much as can, gripping the leather arms of the chair for support. He wants to get out and go home and curl up somewhere, but that changes when he drowns out the voice as he realises the the projection covers the entire room — there are galaxies all over the walls and distant planets wherever he looks.

He glances to his left where Yamaguchi should be, and the sinking feeling comes crawling back.

_Look up, I’ll be there._

Tsukishima finally relaxes, leaning back into the chair and searches the universe which covers the ceiling.

Tsukishima can see Yamaguchi among the stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back at work and uni, so sorry if the updates are a little slower!
> 
> also sorry if the quality starts slipping! I don't have anything planned out and just kind of roll with it because I want to explore all of it - the good days, the bad days, and the pure ugliness of grief
> 
> see you next time <3


	10. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg I am so sorry for the accidental almost-4-month break! I work part time and go to uni and it is owning my ass but I am owning it back! 
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: this chapter contains the theme of self-harm

Tsukishima’s secret plan b, if for some reason things didn’t work out in Japan, was go to the UK. Tsukishima has to admit he doesn’t know much about the countries that form together as the UK. He knows that London is the capital, people eat with cutlery, people are apparently polite and everyone speaks English, but that’s pretty much it. Most importantly, he also knows that the UK is just about far enough away from Japan, so he can reinvent himself if he wishes.

Just when he thought he might be making a tiny bit of progress with coping, Tsukishima’s latest appointment with the career advisor at school threw him back in the deep dark depths of step zero. He realised that without Yamaguchi, he doesn’t have any future plans anymore. They were still trying to figure it out between themselves, but Tsukishima assumed they’d always be together in a university in Tokyo, or maybe Osaka where the living costs were slightly cheaper, and then they’d take it from there.

Tsukishima knows now that following Yamaguchi everywhere was quite lazy. It hit him like a ton of bricks sitting opposite the advisor, who patiently waited for him to answer the question: _‘what are your goals for the future?’_. Tsukishima doesn’t know. Not anymore.

“I think I’ll go to university,” Tsukishima tries.

“And study what?”

_I dunno. Just think of something. _“English, I think.”

“Oh, are you planning to go to America?” The advisor’s interested now.

“I think I’d prefer the UK,” _Great. Now I have to pretend my dream is to move to London._

“London is it?” 

“Yes, definitely.”

Tsukishima sits through the next ten minutes having to listening how just taking an English degree will not be enough for the job market in the UK. He nods. He has to take something else, like business studies or economics or law, to be more competitive. He nods. There’s more to the UK than just speaking English. Tsukishima nods to be polite but thinks it’s stupid. If he learns their dumb language, what more could they want? He then agrees that his new dream is move to London with a business or a law degree with English language and the advisor seems satisfied with that.

Tsukishima leaves the meeting feeling pretty pissed off. Not at the advisor, but at Yamaguchi.

_Didn’t you think about how selfish you were being when you took my entire future away from me?_

_We planned on traveling the world together once we got our lives together. Did you forget those plans?_

_Tadashi… I don’t know who I am anymore._

_It’s been a month and I still can’t work out right from left._

The rest of the school day is a write-off. It’s shakes off Tsukishima’s balance in his mind and he feels vulnerable for the rest of the afternoon. He hides his hands in his blazer pockets because his shirt sleeves just aren’t quite long enough to cover them, and his shoulders keep tensed so they’re right underneath his ears. Tsukishima wishes he could be smaller, smaller, smaller, so he doesn’t take up so much room in the world and could draw lesson attention to himself.

_I just want to disappear._

The internal confession freezes all the cogs ticking in Tsukishima’s head.

—

Tsukishima spends the rest of his evening Googling images of the UK to plan his escape route. Tsukishima doesn’t understand the appeal of London. Even from looking at photos, he feels sticky and gross from the overcrowded streets and don’t even get him started on the underground. Apart from central London, the rest of the city doesn’t even look that nice. No, London wasn’t his end goal.

He looks at other cities. Manchester is another one recommended, but it looks too lively for someone who wants to live in peace. He likes the look of Edinburgh — the architecture is cute, Tsukishima likes the cobbled streets and is quite fascinated by the fact how there’s an ancient mountain in the middle of it all. It apparently rains a lot, but Tsukishima owns a raincoat and an umbrella, so it’d probably be fine.

On the opposite side of the country where it doesn’t rain as much, Brighton, a city on the seafront piques his interest. It looks cheerful enough and the Laines look like a good place to hide in an indie cafe with a steaming cup of tea while looking out the window to people-watch. He looks at photos of the pier on a sunny day, but his mind places Yamaguchi there with candy floss in hand and sunglasses on top of his head, eyes squeezed shut with his head thrown back laughing, and Tsukishima’s entire chest _aches_.

Tsukishima closes the Google Images tab after that.

He glances at the newly framed photo of Yamaguchi and himself together on his desk, discreetly placed a week earlier by Akiteru and Tsukishima has come to the conclusion that he hates it sitting there. It’s a constant reminder of what he’s lost, but even the consideration of hiding it in a desk drawer brings on too much guilt to bear. But it’s another Friday where he’s not spending the night at Yamaguchi’s house and so it’s the time of week where the loneliness hits the hardest. His mother is working the late shift tonight so Tsukishima’s alone, and he decides that tonight he’ll let himself fall apart in the safety of solidarity.

Except, he doesn’t really know how to start.

He takes his laptop to his bed and sits cross-legged, opening the folder of Yamaguchi archive.

_Emails.   
_ _Photos.   
_ _Social media posts.  
_ _Videos._

Tsukishima clicks onto the photos folder first. He slowly goes through them all as a slideshow, pausing at each one. He reaches the photo that was used at the memorial and a sharp pang snaps in his chest. He knows that he should cry, and he wants to, but the tears don’t come. So, he switches to watching videos of Yamaguchi over and over, and the emotion builds and builds and builds but his eyes stay dry.

After two hours with no luck and upset turning to frustration, Tsukishima puts his old phone on charge and waits. Frustration changes over to anxiety and he starts to chew his nails while he waits for the screen to light up.

_I’m sorry it’s been a while. _

Tsukishima types in the passcode.

_I just couldn’t handle it. _

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 7th May, 12:17am**

_Tsukki I think I’ve totally lost it _

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 7th May, 12:19am**

_I have another secret _

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 7th May, 12:19am**

_I think this one is much worse   
  
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 7th May, 12:26am**

_I can’t stop taking painkillers _

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 7th May, 12:29am**

_I hurt myself once on my thigh but you questioned it so I didn't do it again and took some painkillers instead but now I can't stop taking them_

The colour drains from Tsukishima’s face. _Oh god._ He remembers. Two gashes on Yamaguchi’s right thigh. Tsukishima had only caught a glimpse of them when Yamaguchi stopped during practice to rest, leaning against the wall with knees pulled to his chest and his shorts had slid further down. Yamaguchi turned bright red, ignored Tsukishima’s questions and went straight back to serving. The gashes healed, and Tsukishima forgot about them.

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 7th May, 12:34am**

_Why can’t I stop taking the pills Tsukki? I’m scared _

Tsukishima feels his chest collapse.

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 7th May, 12:42am**

_I guess I took the word painkillers a bit too literally huh tsukki? _

__  
  


Tsukishima’s eyes are blotchy, and the skin underneath is puffy. It’s embarrassing, but Tsukishima has to chop some cucumber and place two slices over his eyes before he goes back to bed the next morning.

Tsukishima doesn’t think he feels better after a cry and a solid sleep. He feels even worse with a pounding headache and even lonelier. He picks up his phone to text Yamaguchi and feels betrayed by the habit.

The rest of the afternoon, Tsukishima has to try and stitch his heart back up before Akiteru comes home again in the evening. He has to clean up the mess that’s all over his face, but it doesn’t fool Akiteru, who can see straight through him the second he sees his brother. Akiteru wants to talk to him about him about it, wants to be a good brother who cares, but Tsukishima can’t risk it.

He can’t force these walls down that have been so painstakingly hard to build. So he ignores Akiteru’s concerned gaze and shrugs off his questions like he’s an annoying teammate who won’t stop pestering him. He doesn’t go as far as telling him to piss off, but he hides in his room the rest of Akiteru’s weekend visit. He buries himself under his duvet and only then does he feel safe and the whirring in his brain can finally slow down and stop creating lies for his mouth to voice.

He picks up his phone because he wants to text someone, but after scoring off the volleyball team, there’s no one else. Tsukishima even starts to wish he hadn’t quit the team group chat as much as the notifications drove him crazy, then maybe he wouldn’t feel so disconnected from the world.

_Contact menu.   
_ _Yamaguchi Tadashi.  
_ _Call mobile number. _

_Beep beep._

“Hi! You’ve reached Yamaguchi Tadashi’s voicemail. Please leave me a message or text me!”

_End call.  
  
_

__  
  


Tsukishima goes to the Yamaguchi’s house instead of school on Monday. It’s 9th October. One month since Yamaguchi died.

Tsukishima didn’t sleep. He watched the digital clock on the bedside table all night, watching it tick away, thinking of Yamaguchi, wondering if he watched the time while he was dying. Tsukishima wondered what it was like, waiting for yourself to die. He wondered if Yamaguchi thought of him in that last moment.

Was that conceited of him?

Knowing him, Yamaguchi probably cried a lot, more than Tsukishima probably ever saw. He still felt quite offended that Yamaguchi decided to die alone, wouldn’t let Tsukishima talk him out of it.

_You didn’t even say goodbye. _

Tsukishima remembers the last hug.

_That doesn’t count._

_You just said ‘see you tomorrow’. _

_It doesn’t count. _

_Liar. _

Before going to Yamaguchi’s room, Tsukishima has to endure an awkward cup of tea with his parents first. Mai still looks dreadful. She cries while she talks, tears streaming down her face, but she ignores them for quite some time and Tsukishima can’t help but stare.

“Sorry, Kei-kun,” Mai interrupts herself and finally reaches for a tissue. “I can’t stop crying. I’m sick of it,” she wipes her cheeks and blows her nose. “Even when I’m thinking something happy about Tadashi, all I can do is cry.”

Tsukishima knows he should be a comfort, but it feels too personal to be here and it tangles all the words in his throat. Mai tries to coax Tsukishima to talk about himself, about Tadashi, but he can’t bear it. He wants to keep all their memories to himself, doesn’t want to share them when they became increasingly personal over the last year. He presumes that she doesn’t know much about their relationship extending past the borders of friendship.

Although, Yamaguchi was an open book about some things if you asked, so maybe she did know.

_Did he tell you that we kissed?_

Mai smiles at him anyway, unfazed.

__  
  


Yamaguchi’s room doesn’t feel like Yamaguchi’s room anymore.

The bed where Yamaguchi used to lay has been stripped bare, leaving only the mattress. The pillows and the duvet Tsukishima and Yamaguchi sometimes wrapped themselves in are gone, and Tsukishima feels like he’s been stolen of his most sensitive memories. They’re not under the bed, they’re not in the wardrobe, they’re not anywhere to seen, so Tsukishima has to let it go, but it still looks strange to see the bed as it is - a wooden frame, and a mattress on it. He can’t get it out of his head that it’s missing a dozing Yamaguchi and a dozen plushies.

Tsukishima notices more gaps when he looks around. There are things missing from the shelves of the book case, but Tsukishima can’t remember what they are, and there are a few photos missing from Yamaguchi’s collection on the wall, leaving only behind blu-tack stains on the paint. Otherwise, everything else looks untouched. Tsukishima takes a few minutes to wipe off the dust on the book case and watches it pile up on the floor before running his fingers down the spines on the same books he tried to read when he saw Yamaguchi dead.

Without the default background noise of pencils scratching on paper or a gentle R&B playlist in the background, Yamaguchi’s room is utterly soulless. And without him, the room is a painful, cold still, like Tsukishima’s brittle bones on his early morning runs. The layer of dust which covers every surface makes everything even more uncomfortable, and Tsukishima feels like he’s intruding on an old life, even though he’s sure there are probably traces of him, of them, in here.

But it’s also the same room where Yamaguchi hid all his secrets and let his guard down and there has to be a trace of it, somewhere. Tsukishima knows he shouldn’t be searching for evidence for the last texts, but he has to _know_, has to know how bad it was and how he didn’t notice.

It doesn’t take long to find it.

In the middle drawer of the bedside table, Tsukishima finds empty pill packets upon empty pill packets. What takes him aback first is not yet the sheer amount of them, but how there are numbers and other incoherent markings written on them with a Sharpie.

Tsukishima is not sure what comes first: the feeling of any life draining from his body, or the shock that turns his blood to ice.

He knows he was asking for it by searching, but he didn’t expect the truth to be so devasting.

Tsukishima pushes all the questions to the back of his mind for later and begins to scoop out the packets from the drawer.

_This can just be between us. _

_No one else has to know. _

_I’ll keep your secret and protect your family from further pain._

_I don’t think your mother could take it, Tadashi. _

Tsukishima stuffs all the packets into his bag before he starts to wonder if it was the right thing to do. But it has to be, there’s no other option. Yamaguchi liked his privacy when he wanted it, and Tsukishima’s worried Mai might become even more ill with the stress.

Tsukishima is younger than her and he can handle the pressure on his heart.

Honestly, it’s fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry again for not uploading in ages! I've been writing this chapter since I uploaded the last one but found it so hard to write. I keep pouring more of myself and my secrets into it, and the aspect in this chapter was bit too much for me to face a few times 
> 
> there's a song by my favourite band that I associate with this fic, and I heard it live a week after I uploaded the last chapter, and it had me shook for quite a while. I'll share it with you guys when I feel like it's the right time 
> 
> thank you so much for reading <3


	11. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one might be my favourite one yet

When Tsukishima arrives back at home, he goes straight back upstairs to hide the evidence.

When he opens his bag, he takes out the other thing he took from Yamaguchi’s room — Yamaguchi’s hoodie.

The tablets don’t make any sense. Tsukishima can’t wrap his head around it. Sure, he took Yamaguchi taking painkillers every now and then, but not like this. Not like he claimed. He doesn’t get it.

He has to Google what it means. It takes some time to find the right thing, but the terms are ‘self-harm’ and ‘self-poisoning’. How strange. Tsukishima doesn’t think he’s heard of those terms before. Maybe it’s no surprise he didn’t notice anything, after all.

He browses what could be hundreds of websites about these topics, and each of them give him their own tell-tale signs and reasons why people self-harm. But still, Tsukishima doesn’t get it.

_Sometimes people are in such insurmountable pain that they harm themselves to feel better. _

That seemed terribly ironic and it didn’t make any sense.

Tsukishima closes his laptop and puts it on the desk. He wants Yamaguchi here, to gently explain things as he usually did with literature answers when Tsukishima didn’t understand. The Yamaguchi in the picture frame, that’s who he wanted back. Not this sad version of him that he left behind that Tsukishima has to try and figure out. The puzzle of Yamaguchi that Tsukishima’s trying to complete keeps getting bigger by the day, but he still doesn’t have any of the pieces.

But for the remainder of today, he will rest. He hides Yamaguchi’s secret in the same drawer as his old phone to deal with another day. Tsukishima hates to admit it, but he feels distance between him and Yamaguchi widening when he does so. To hide his suffering and an empty promise to think about it another day is betraying. He knows this, but he closes the drawer anyway.

He puts on Yamaguchi’s hoodie. The sleeves were always a bit too long for Yamaguchi, so the excess fabric bunched up at his wrists when it wasn’t pulled over his hands. With Tsukishima being taller, it fits him quite well as if it was his own. It’s meant to bring him comfort, and it does for a while, until he catches the scent of Yamaguchi and his heart shatters all over again.  
  


**[To: Yamaguchi Tadashi]**

_I miss you._

It’s been one month without Yamaguchi, and Tsukishima’s life has never been emptier.

—

Tsukishima forces himself to endure the full 24 hours of 9th October. He’s not sure why exactly, but it seems the right thing to do at the time. So even though he’s exhausted from not sleeping the night before, an aching heart and all the tears he’s watched stream down Mai’s face and cried himself, Tsukishima sits on his bed with his back against the headboard, knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them and he sees the day out the same way he saw it in by watching the minutes tick by.

The vagueness of Yamaguchi dying on 9th September is hurtful. There is no exact time for him slipping away from Earth, it is simply _‘9th September’_. There is no before minute, and no after minute. Maybe this is why Tsukishima makes himself stay awake for the full 24 hours, even though he died within the first 6 hours of the day. Mai’s fake smile in the morning, the gentle voice breaking, her sobs, sitting numbly in Yamaguchi’s room, thinking it was all a joke – it all plays itself back like a reel of film in Tsukishima’s head.

_23:59_

A month since Tsukishima has found himself lonely, suddenly. A month without volleyball. A month without Yamaguchi. What a horrid thing to realise.

_00:00_

Tsukishima sighs and wonders if he’ll do this every month. Wonders if he’ll always be this sad. This hollow.

He falls asleep not soon after, but the nightmares come crawling back and he jolts back awake in the early hours of the morning. Yamaguchi is dying in his dreams again. He tosses and turns for a little before getting up and going for a run before school. It’s quite surprising how quickly out of shape you can get, even after all the years of being committed to a sport, so running in the morning before school smoothly becomes a part of a new routine.

The sweat is becoming a familiar comfort, and it’s a way he can discipline himself. He likes having this of control. Something he can handle, at last. On his runs, he can choose to decide to run so fast for too long to the point his short breaths are painful, or he can decide to run a slower pace for what feels like hours. Audiobooks help keep his concentration focused and limit how much he notices of what’s around him. It’s necessary, because Yamaguchi is everywhere. He’s tying shoelaces on street corners, sitting cross-legged under trees watching autumn leaves fall from branches, walking a zebra crossing with hands in pockets and hair dancing with the wind.

And it really fucking hurts.

But Tsukishima has also figured out a way to stop him thinking and drifting too far from thoughts which are safe. He will discover new music through Soundcloud online, download all the tracks, and make another playlist. When the images of Dead Yamaguchi are too much, Tsukishima can put on his new playlist, and focus on the new lyrics and the sound. This is productive, in one way or another.

Tsukishima knows he is making progress. Maybe ignoring the problem is not the ultimate form of progress, but baby steps are still steps forward.

And anyway, Tsukishima is just proud he has a new routine that he made all by himself. He goes for a run with an audiobook at 4am, goes to school after a shower, and when he returns, half-heartedly does the homework, and then spends the rest of the evening thinking about Yamaguchi. And on Sundays, the afternoon is spent finding and downloading new music for the week ahead. This is control. A routine like the online forums advise. It helps. Before, having a routine seemed like the enemy against teenage years, but now, routine is the sole string that Tsukishima can use as a core to rebuild his life, while trying to grasp his understanding on what it means to live without his best friend.

He is exhausted at school for waking up so early and his grades are dropping, but it’s fine. He knows he is being expected to be able to function without Yamaguchi, but maybe… he should cut himself some slack on that. Maybe. At least, this is coping, to some degree.

Around the sixth week without Yamaguchi, Tsukishima stops speaking. It doesn’t make much of a difference, he finds. He’ll answer the register at school, read a passage aloud if he’s asked to, answer his mother’s interrogating questions at the end of the day, but apart from that, he doesn’t speak.

It is not so much of a conscious decision, but something he happens to notice one day. There’s no Yamaguchi, there’s no volleyball club, there’s no coach, so there’s no one to speak to. He’s pleased. He is finding solace in the silence, and this latest audiobook has him totally hooked. Maybe he will survive this, after all.

What does surprise him one day then, is a sudden yearning to see someone. Some human interaction that wasn’t forced family time and his mother chatting non-stop and repeating the same stories over and over.

So, naturally, the only plausible thing to do is to book a train ticket from Sendai to Tokyo. He can be there in two hours, including his short journey from home to Sendai. His mother is still sleeping off her Friday night shift, so Tsukishima leaves her a note to say he will be gone for the day.

But much to Tsukishima’s surprise, the label he carries of someone who didn't try hard enough to stop his best friend from killing himself, sticks. It doesn’t peel away no matter how far the train is from Sendai, and even though he’s surrounded by strangers and people he's never met, Tsukishima can still feel the whispers at his back, crawling upwards with spindly legs like spiders up his neck and to his ears.

He checks in a public toilet mirror that he didn't put a badge on himself that said what had happened in the moments where life feels so foggy that the hours disappear. He scrubs his hands with soap until they feel raw to rid of the blood on his hands that everyone else seems to be able to see, and only once they feel clean he mind drifts his schedule, and realises its empty. It’s unsettling.

He takes his phone and considers texting Kuroo, wondering if the news had got to Nekoma.  
  


**[To: Kuroo Tetsurou] **

_What are you doing today?  
  
_

Kuroo’s reply is almost instant. Tsukishima’s cold heart warms ever so slightly. To his surprise, Kuroo doesn’t obsess over that Tsukishima’s in Tokyo for seemingly no reason at all, by himself.  
  


**[From: Kuroo Tetsurou] 11:41am**

_I’m on my way, I won’t be long. Go and wait inside a Starbucks or something_   
  


Tsukishima’s stomach twists. He dreads to think about what’s coming next — all the uninvited guests, the probing questions-

**[From: Kuroo Testsurou] 11:41am**

_I won’t tell anyone else you’re here _

**[From: Kuroo Testsurou] 11:43am**

_I have an exam next week. Want to get a coffee and help me study?_

Turns out all third years are mind readers.

—

“Tsukki!”

Tsukishima’s heart sinks at the nickname, but seeing Kuroo wave with a smile on his face stops it from drowning.

“Let’s get out of these chain shops, my favourite independent cafe isn’t too far from here,” Kuroo starts, slapping a hand on Tsukishima’s shoulder. “I usually go there to study since they don’t mind me staying a while.”

Kuroo leads the way and the conversation, nattering about Nekoma mainly, teachers he doesn’t like, the upcoming exams. Tsukishima doesn’t know much about Kuroo outside of volleyball, so it’s actually quite nice to let himself settle into Kuroo’s life for a while, placing all his teachers and his friends inside his own imagination as they ravel out like characters, and Tsukishima lets himself get lost like he’s listening to another audiobook.

Kuroo doesn’t seem to expect much, and Tsukishima likes that. He likes how Kuroo doesn’t mind that he doesn’t interject with questions or doesn’t press him to share details about Karasuno in return, and most importantly, he doesn’t ask where Yamaguchi is. Kuroo continues to ramble when they get their coffee and find a spot in the cafe and only stops to sip his coffee. In the silence, Tsukishima pulls his lips into a thin line but Kuroo doesn’t seem to notice as he pulls out a couple of textbooks and some handwritten flash cards.

“So, my exam next week is for biology,” Kuroo pulls off the rubber bands for the flash cards. “I’m not too bad, but there’s room for improvement,” he pushes the flash cards towards Tsukishima. “I only finished making these last night, so you can test me on them first.”

Tsukishima nods. “Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

“I quit volleyball.”

“I know.” A pause.

_So why didn’t you text me? _

“To be honest, I’ve been waiting for you to call,” Kuroo starts. “Hinata told Kenma and Kenma told me what happened. I’m really sorry, Tsukki,” Tsukishima flinches. “Sorry, _Kei_.”

Tsukishima shrugs.

“I wanted to come and see you, but I didn’t want to intrude, and I didn’t know where I was going,” Kuroo admits. “It was hard enough to make you join our after-hours practices at the training camps, to be honest,” Kuroo laughs a little and Tsukishima concentrates his stare on the pastel flashcards.

Tsukishima shrugs again.

“I’m sorry Kei, I should’ve called or something earlier,” Kuroo swirls the coffee in his cup. “I just didn’t know what to say.”

Tsukishima regrets coming. He feels the loneliness pool at the bottom of stomach, the stinging in his eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Tsukishima shrugs, and then immediately after shakes his head. It’s like Kuroo said, he doesn’t know what to say, either.

“Well, we have all day, so think about it,” Kuroo nudges the flashcards again. “But first, test me on these.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never wrote Kuroo before, so sorry if he's ooc! 
> 
> From now I'm going to try and upload once a month, but don't hold me to that :)


	12. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did I mean to write several pages of Kuroo and Tsukki dialogue? no, but I had a lot of fun writing it 
> 
> (p.s. try and guess which game I played through since I last posted)

Did Tsukishima already mention that he hated zombies? 

He finds the undead are quite unsettling. Monsters trapped in human bodies, ugly noises and vile screams disrupting any kind of silence in a post-apocalyptic world, no matter what kind of interpretation they’re set in. In that case, it’s probably no surprise that Tsukishima is hating every single second sitting on Kuroo’s sofa with his knees pulled up to his chest in a protective position while Kuroo plays through some zombie game that’s about smuggling a 14-year-old girl through America. 

Post-apocalyptic America is a display of showing nature taking back what’s theirs - grass and weeds crawl up abandoned cars and ivy entangles itself across decayed bridges. Trees begin to submerge deserted buildings and it’d be pretty to look at if Tsukishima wasn’t anxious waiting for a zombie to come running out at any moment and flinching at every sudden movement. The game is _totally sick, man_, according to Kuroo, who is apparently playing through it for the umpteenth time. 

Kuroo continues to chat non-stop to fill the silence while Tsukishima hums at the appropriate moments, quite liking how Kuroo’s voice sounds in the late afternoon. He feels quite out of place at a home that’s neither his own nor Yamaguchi’s, but the change of scenery is nice. Kuroo’s one-way conversation fills a void, and even the hollowness that resides inside of Tsukishima, feels a little whole. The change of dividing his attention between the stories of Kenma and the story of the game is alien, but a breath of fresh air. On screen, Kuroo’s game character manages to get inside the council building, and a tense cutscene unfolds. 

“Ah, there it is, the sideline romance,” Kuroo announces, stretching out his arms and placing them behind his head. He glances at Tsukishima. “Have you ever had a sideline romance?” 

“Hm? I guess so,” Tsukishima shrugs. Kuroo’s eyes widen. 

“Wow...” 

“Yeah,” Tsukishima feels awkward as the silence hangs low again. Maybe he should explain the situation, provide details… Tsukishima’s stomach turns. He’d rather not. 

“Hmm… Let’s play 20 questions. But I’ll only ask and you only answer.” 

“Huh? How’s that fair?” 

“Hey, I’ve talked about myself _all day_. All I know about you is your blocks kinda suck and we can’t even talk about that anymore. Be nice to your senpai, Kei.” 

Tsukishima supposes he can’t argue with that. 

“What’s your favourite colour?” 

“Hmm. Blue?” 

“Boring.” 

“It was hardly a thrilling question,” Kuroo laughs. “Purple, then.” 

“That’s better,” Kuroo picks up the controller again as the game shifts back to gameplay. “Favourite food?” 

“Strawberry shortcake. Only the fresh ones in the cafes, though.” 

“Fancy,” Kuroo comments. “What do you want to study after high school?” 

“Realistically, or ideally?” 

Kuroo hums. “Both.” 

“Then that’s two questions. Ideally, archaeology. Realistically, English.” 

“Archaeology?” Kuroo starts swearing under his breath while he’s being shot at in-game. “Why archaeology?” 

“I like old stuff, I guess.” 

“I see, and English?” 

“I want to move away.” 

“Oh,” Kuroo and Tsukishima jump simultaneously as an enemy grabs Kuroo’s character, Joel, from behind. This was a good set-up after all, Kuroo can’t pry too much while half-distracted and Tsukishima doesn’t have to try and hide the shame that’s all over his face and burning his cheeks red. “Where?” 

Tsukishima feels like he should hide his UK plans. “Australia’s hot.” 

“Australia has big spiders.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“_Not_ fine. Let’s see... Do you miss volleyball?” 

“I don’t know,” Tsukishima shrugs. “Maybe not,” He watches Joel craft some health packs on screen. “It seems I can live without it.”

“Oh,” Kuroo pauses. He heals Joel. A few moments pass. “Nine questions, already.” 

Tsukishima nods. “What else?” 

“Will you go back to volleyball in university?” 

“Probably not,” Tsukishima knows what Kuroo desperately wants to ask, but he feels the anxiety finally begin to unwind itself from inside his chest. Tsukishima dares himself to breathe in deeply to prove it. 

“Why?” 

Tsukishima feels a little braver after his deep breath inwards. “It will never be the same again.” 

“I see,” Kuroo trails off, and Tsukishima concentrates on Joel. He doesn’t want to dwell on the fact volleyball will probably become something he can’t bear to play or watch. “So Kageyama and Hinata will be the captain and vice-captain, eventually.”

“Thank _god_ I won’t be around for that.” 

Kuroo laughs. “They can’t be that bad when they’re together, surely.” 

Tsukishima blinks. “They argue constantly. I thought you knew them?” 

“Only Chibi-chan, but not very well. I thought you mentioned they weren’t talking to each other at the last training camp.” 

“You’re so lucky.” 

“They’re harmless, Kei,” Kuroo laughs. “Don’t you still see them?” 

“No,” Tsukishima tugs his legs back to his chest. “They don’t bother with me anymore after Yamaguchi…”

Kuroo doesn’t look at Tsukishima, but cocks his eyebrow. Tsukishima remembers the texts from Hinata he never read, and feels bad painting him like that. And by the look on his face, Kuroo already knows. _Goddamn Kenma. _

“Well… Hinata texted one day. I didn’t read them,” Tsukishima admits. 

“I think you should,” Kuroo comments. Tsukishima follows his lead and gets his phone out of his pocket. Hesitates. “What do they say? I’m making this a part of the 20 questions, now. No backing out.”  
  


**[From: Hinata Shouyou] 24th September, 3:52pm**

_Tsukishima!!! Where are you_

**[From: Hinata Shouyou] 24th September, 8:02pm**   
  
_Are u ok?? :(_

**[From: Hinata Shouyou] 24th September, 8:03pm**

_You’re not coming to practice and i haven’t seen u in ages_

**[From: Hinata Shouyou] 24th September10:54pm **

_Talk to me :( _

Kuroo seems satisfied with the answer. “What will you reply with?”

“It’s already been nearly two months since he texted me. I won’t reply.” 

“You should reply.”

“But I won’t,” Even though he knows that Kuroo’s right, and guilt is starting to eat him from the inside out, Tsukishima puts his phone back in his pocket to end the conversation. “We’re not friends.”

"I think Hinata…" Kuroo drifts off seeing Tsukishima's sulking face. "Do you want me to stop talking about him?"

"Please." 

"Alright,” Kuroo stares at Tsukishima for a moment like he wants to say something else, but he goes quiet and turns back to the TV where Joel is fishing around for supplies. Tsukishima’s phone feels very heavy in his pocket right now, and for a moment, considers texting Hinata back. 

But what would he say?

_Hey, sorry it’s been nearly two months since you texted but yeah, I am really struggling to come to terms with living without Yamaguchi. _

He would sound stupid, maybe even stupider than Hinata is on a daily basis, and besides, Hinata hasn’t texted him since. He probably forgot to care about him, which is fine, because Tsukishima doesn’t really have the space or the energy to care about him either. And that’s fine. Hinata has Kageyama to handle his own emotional work and that’s fine, because they’re both idiots and idiots understand each other, as they have their own idiot language. 

Tsukishima’s heart squeezes. He misses his language with Yamaguchi. Their language was hidden in the soft touches, the knowing glances, the silence matched with elbow nudges in study sessions, the afternoons finding soggy fries. His heart suddenly weighs a ton, and he misses Yamaguchi. He shouldn’t be here, should be curled up at home and trying to adjust to living without Yamaguchi, but for some reason he’s at Kuroo’s house because he travelled two hours unplanned and unannounced, answering Kuroo’s twenty questions and giving him nothing to go on. Kuroo must think he’s a weirdo.

Kuroo keeps a steady gaze on the TV while cogs tick over in Tsukishima’s head. Tsukishima tries to level his breathing to slow his racing mind when he realises that he’s miles away. As if on cue, his phone starts to buzz erratically from the frantic texts of his mother demanding to know where he is, and it takes 8 texts, Kuroo’s address and screenshots of the shinkansen timetable from Tokyo back to Sendai to reassure her. 

“I should probably get going soon,” Tsukishima starts, burying his phone back in his pocket, and he realises he doesn’t really want to leave. Miyagi is full of nothing but ghosting memories and grief, and Tokyo is void of all of that. “My mum’s freaking out because this is the first time I’ve left the house of my own accord for something other than school,” Tsukishima laughs but it’s hollow. 

Kuroo pauses the game. “Why don’t you stay the night?” 

Tsukishima blinks. “Stay?” 

“Yeah, you can stay here for the night,” Kuroo says. “With you sitting like that all the time, it’s not like you’re getting in the way, _and_ you can even help me study tomorrow. Think about it, none of the girls at school would pass on this opportunity,” Tsukishima laughs again, but it’s genuine this time. It’s more of a snort really, and Kuroo seems taken back. “This is the first time you’ve laughed all day, and _that’s _what you find funny? Anyway, what do you say?” 

_Ah. _

Kuroo looks so keen like a kid running to an ice cream van on a summer’s day, but logistically, he can’t. “I don’t have anything with me. And my train ticket expires at midnight, but thanks.” 

“We can buy you another one tomorrow,” Kuroo persists. “Tell your mum that you’ll stay. I promise I’ll feed you. I can give you stuff to wear.”

“Kuroo, it cost me ¥20,000 to get here, it’s way too expensive to buy it again.” 

“Oh,” Kuroo’s face falls and Tsukishima can’t help but notice it. “That’s expensive.”

“Yeah.”

“But next time, you should stay over,” Kuroo says it so earnestly with a pleading look in his eyes, that it pulls on Tsukishima’s heartstrings. The suffocation of loneliness that cages in Tsukishima’s chest warps itself into doubt, and Tsukishima can’t quite believe it. “I’ve had fun, Kei,” If Tsukishima doesn’t pull away from Kuroo’s soft (but a little intimidating) stare, he might cry. “Please?” 

Tsukishima lowers his eyes and sighs. “Okay.” 

“Good,” Kuroo turns back to the TV. “Next month?” 

“I can try,” Tsukishima shifts and sinks back into the sofa. “It’s just expensive.” 

“Hmm, guess it’s time for you to get a newspaper delivery gig.” 

“We’re not in America, Kuroo,” Tsukishima rolls his eyes, but he smiles. 

_Is this okay, Tadashi? _

_Am I allowed to smile without you?_

“And there aren’t jobs like that around home,” Tsukishima finishes, pulling his lips back into a straight line. 

“Just tell them you have to see your dear senpai and they’ll let you off,” Kuroo explains nonchalantly and Tsukishima has to hold back a laugh.

“You’re kind of stupid, you know.”

“Hey!” Kuroo throws a cushion at Tsukishima’s face. “I’m in the top classes at school!” 

“That doesn’t mean you have any common sense,” Tsukishima fixes his glasses on his face and cuddles the cushion to his stomach, crossing his legs. A small smile spreads on his face.

Kuroo huffs. “Because of that insult, you have to answer the next question I have.”

“Fine.” 

“Who…” Kuroo starts, biting his lip. “Who was your sideline romance?”

“I mean… We weren’t dating. We didn’t make it official, or anything.”

“Right, but who was it?” 

Tsukishima tenses. Some silent moments tick by. “I think I’m bound to secrecy on that,” the palms of his hands feel clammy.

“It makes sense that they’d be embarrassed of you,” Kuroo jokes. Tsukishima sees the smirk that grows on his face and feels the need to defend himself. 

“Not like that,” Tsukishima replies. “We just never…” _Talked about it_. The words die in his throat.

“Alright, then how many people have you kissed?” 

“One,” He answers without thinking, and it’s too late for Tsukishima to notice he’s being broken down, bit by bit, by Kuroo. _Snarky moron._

“Who was your first kiss, Kei?” 

_Fuck._

Tsukishima squeezes the cushion harder. Steadies himself. He opens his mouth, and the name doesn’t come out. Maybe it's buried underneath the words he let die earlier. 

_How long has it been since I said your name? _

_You never leave my mind, and yet… I never seem to be able to say anything aloud._

He tries a different approach. Maybe if he starts with a different word, the name will tag itself along with it. “It was Yamaguchi.”

Tsukishima stares hard at the floor and hears the sound of the pause menu again. 

“Oh.” That’s all Kuroo says, but Tsukishima can feel him staring. 

“Who else?” Tsukishima tries. 

“Who else,” Kuroo agrees. 

\---- 

Tsukishima ends up leaving much later than he intended to. 

He barely makes the shinkansen on time due to Kuroo’s long goodbye, filled with promises of calling and texting and apologies that he didn’t do it sooner for his kouhai. Tsukishima doesn’t even interrupt him with reassurances that it’s not his fault, Yamaguchi being dead and Tsukishima being closed off is not Kuroo’s fault, but it’s not like Kuroo listened to his reassurances throughout the day, so there’s no point trying again when the shinkansen is minutes from closing its doors. 

In a way, it’s nice. Acknowledgement from someone is nice, even if Kuroo doesn’t hold up to his promises in the long term and Tsukishima doesn’t end up going back to Tokyo next month, Tsukishima can hold onto the warmth of friendship that Kuroo gave him today. 

_Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep. _

The shinkansen doors close right behind Tsukishima, and he takes a moment to catch his breath before finding a spare seat. He’s lucky enough to find an empty window seat at a table, and he puts his headphones on to find a playlist to suit the mood of the darkening sky and sleepy faces of other passengers. He settles on Yamaguchi’s playlist filled with gentle, slow songs that he often played when he was settling down for sleep. He had compiled it with Tsukishima sitting next to him on his bed who watched, hand underneath his chin and Yamaguchi had hummed under his breath in between playing snippets of potential songs for the playlist. Yamaguchi had paid no mind to the lyric language. Japanese, English, Korean, French and another that Tsukishima wasn’t familiar with fill his ears. Yamaguchi’s rule: if it’s soft, it fits. 

Tsukishima recognises some songs from their study sessions that played gently in the background, and to add to his aching heart, he starts to miss Yamaguchi’s quiet humming that admittedly Tsukishima found annoying when he was trying to read. 

What he’d do now to hear his out-of-tune singing. 

Tsukishima really wasn’t one to act on impulse, so if Yamaguchi was watching, he’d love to know what he thought on his sudden trip to Tokyo. 

**[From: Kuroo Testurou] 8:42pm**

_[Image attached] _

Tsukishima groans as he opens the photo. It’s the selfie Kuroo made them take together. Kuroo looks like he’s having a brilliant time, caught mid-laugh while Tsukishima stares at him slightly irritated. Tsukishima supposes it catches the mood of their day together quite well. 

_Is this really alright, Yamaguchi? _

_I feel bad doing nice things without you._

Minutes later, several messages from an unknown number come through. But the view of the sunset is too nice to miss, so Tsukishima ignores the messages and kids himself that Yamaguchi is watching the sunset with him.

\---

_Yamaguchi’s distracted. _

_He’s spinning a pencil in between his fingers, staring blankly at the algebra textbook, and maybe the most telling sign is that he hasn’t said anything in the last five minutes. _

_“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima starts. That seems to get him to leave his haze. “Are you ready for me to turn the page?” _

_Yamaguchi sighs dramatically and drops his pen. “I’ve decided to give up, so you can turn the page.”_

_Tsukishima nods, and turns the page to get started on the next set of questions. He knows that later on, Yamaguchi will sweetly ask to copy the homework, and Tsukishima will let him, as always. Yamaguchi rests his chin on the palm of his hand and out of the corner of his eye, Tsukishima sees his gaze shift to him. Then Yamaguchi starts fidgeting again, which means there’s something on his mind, and it will take forever and a day to get it out of him if Tsukishima doesn’t press hard enough. But the homework is due tomorrow morning, so Yamaguchi will have to wait for the interrogation for a bit longer. _

_Whatever it is, it must be bad, because for the next 10 minutes Yamaguchi does everything in his power to try and get Tsukishima’s attention. It starts with Yamaguchi blowing on Tsukishima’s nose, proceeded by trying to doodle on his workbook and then on his hand before stealing his calculator when Tsukishima’s hand reaches out to use it. _

_“Tadashi.” _

_Yamaguchi grins. He’s got him now. _

_“Tsukki."_

_“What?”_

_“What?” Yamaguchi echoes. Tsukishima raises his eyebrows, and Yamaguchi sticks out his tongue. The next couple of minutes is spent in silence, staring at each other to see who would crack first. Tsukishima refuses to give in. That’s the quickest way to make Yamaguchi cave, so he gets back to the homework, and Yamaguchi pushes back the calculator. _

_“Thanks,” He finishes the next question, and Yamaguchi sighs. _

_“Tsukki…” when Tsukishima looks up, Yamaguchi’s avoiding his stare and seems particularly interested in his own hands. “I wanted to ask you something.” _

_“Yeah?” _

_“Yeah,” Yamaguchi starts twirling a pencil around. “Um… Have you ever kissed anyone?”_

_“Huh?” Tsukishima blinks. “You know I haven’t.”_

_“Well…” the pencil starts twirling faster and Yamaguchi’s voice dips. “I wanna kiss someone to try it but… Uhh…” _

_When Yamaguchi drifts off, Tsukishima feels his own head tilt in questioning. It takes a moment for Yamaguchi’s sheepish expression to add up with what he was saying. “So… You want to try it with me?” Tsukishima’s skin begins to prickle and his cheeks burn._

_“Yeah…” The pencil twirling slows down a little. “To be honest… I only really want you to be my first kiss. Because I know you won’t laugh at me.” _

_“Okay.” _

_“Okay?” Yamaguchi’s voice piques up, eyes wide. _

_“You can kiss me. It’s what friends do. …Probably,” he adds._

_“You’ve wanted it?” _

_“To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it,” Tsukishima scratches his head. “But I’ll do it, for you.” _

_“Ahh...” Yamaguchi’s face falls. “You don’t have to.”_

_“Tadashi,” Yamaguchi looks up. “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me, too.”_

_“You really don’t mind?”_

_“Tadashi.”_

_Yamaguchi stifles a giggle and it makes Tsukishima notice how heavy the air is. The tension is thick and without the sound of pencils scratching against paper, it’s painfully silent. Yamaguchi doesn’t seem to notice the lack of background noise as he shifts his chair so he’s a whole two inches closer, and the pencils on the desk clink against from the movement. _

_“Umm...” Yamaguchi’s eyes flicker around Tsukishima’s face, then his lips, then his nose and then his eyes and Tsukishima sees him freeze. _

_Tsukishima doesn’t think he cares much about the kissing part, but he wants to make Yamaguchi comfortable, at least. So he’s the one who reaches out first — elbow resting on his workbook, his fingers threading through Yamaguchi’s hair. Tsukishima tilts his head slightly and takes a second to glance over him. _

_Tsukishima probably won’t kiss anyone for a very long time after this, so maybe he may as well soak it all in while can. Yamaguchi’s flushed at the cheeks and his eyes are curious but shining, and Tsukishima thinks if he wasn’t so devoid of feelings, that maybe this would be the moment where he falls in love. Where he should fall in love. Yamaguchi’s so pretty and soft and could win the hearts of anyone he wanted, but thank god he’s right here in front of Tsukishima instead. And he looks so glorious. _

_Yamaguchi starts to relax. His head nudges into Tsukishima’s hand and a small smile teases the edge of his lips. And slowly, his own hands find themselves on Tsukishima’s waist. _

_“I wonder if I should take my glasses off?” Tsukishima wonders out loud. _

_“Maybe... you might squish my face.”_

_“Okay,” Tsukishima moves his hands to take off his glasses and set them down on the desk, and reaches out to Yamaguchi again, cupping his cheek. It startles him a little, but his eyes are curious. Yamaguchi feels too far away but too close at the same. Tsukishima can feel his presence, brimming with anxiety, the same kind Tsukishima can feel buzzing in his hands and chest. _

_Yamaguchi’s too far, because it seems to take an awfully long time for him to lean in and gives him too much time to overthink, so he’ll get halfway and start giggling and pull away. Tsukishima let Yamaguchi take the lead, but was seeming like a bad idea now. After a few more false starts, Tsukishima feels a little braver, and edges his chair closer. Their knees bump, so Tsukishima leans in, and he feels Yamaguchi’s hands adjust on his waist. He really hopes his own hand isn’t clammy against Yamaguchi’s skin._

_“Are you sure about this, Tadashi?” Tsukishima asks when Yamaguchi tries to stifle another laugh. _

_“Mhmm,” Yamaguchi smiles, his face leaning back into Tsukishima’s hand. “Give me a minute to get used to this.” _

_Tsukishima gives him five. They consist of Yamaguchi’s eyes trailing around Tsukishima’s face, and Tsukishima feels his face burn in response, but Yamaguchi’s still gently smiling, even when he hesitantly puts his hand on top of Tsukishima’s before breaking out into a grin. Tsukishima wishes that he could even imagine half of what he’s feeling, because clearly, it goes further than Tsukishima’s own nervousness._

_Yamaguchi’s hand moves from the top of Tsukishima’s hand back to his waist before he leans in again. Tsukishima meets him halfway this time, eyes closed, and then their lips touch. Yamaguchi opens his mouth slightly and applies a gentle pressure, and Tsukishima replicates the movement. Yamaguchi’s lips are surprisingly soft. Tsukishima supposes he doesn’t hate this, and doesn’t pull away. He wants this to be the perfect first experience for Yamaguchi, like they do in the movies, so submits to his role as well as he can. _

_Yamaguchi seems to pause, their lips still captured. Tsukishima feels the pull of his t-shirt as Yamaguchi grips the fabric into his fist._

Give me a minute to get used to this.

_Tsukishima resists the instinct to pull away so he can kiss him all over again. _

_It might be ten seconds or a minute or six, but gradually, Yamaguchi relaxes his hand, and Tsukishima feels his face drawing away. _

Was that everything you ever dreamed of?

_He finds his answer when he opens his eyes. Yamaguchi is glowing. He giggles nervously into his hands which Tsukishima takes a good sign, but wishes he could feel his own heart booming. Tsukishima ignores the twist in his stomach and puts his glasses back on. Tsukishima feels quite smug to have kissed him first, especially when Yamaguchi looks like this: a bit drunk on embarrassment, cheeks shaded pink and a smile that could light up the city. _

_He thinks Yamaguchi will be satisfied with his experiment and will go back his homework, but he doesn’t. He keeps peering at Tsukishima and he can’t help but stare back. _

_“What are you thinking?” For once, Tsukishima can’t figure it out. _

_“I might want to kiss you again.” _

_Maybe it’s the hormones or maybe he is pretending to be in love, but Tsukishima can’t help himself. He pulls Yamaguchi closer as they lean in and they kiss. _

_Again, and again, and again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the world's changed a lot since I last posted a month ago. I hope everyone's okay and your families are safe, and you're able to stay home if you can. there seems to be a lot of pressure on using your time wisely and being productive, but please please please be kind to yourself. read lots of fics. rewatch your fave series. start a new manga! 
> 
> <3


	13. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise hinata pov!

Hinata’s spending his evenings trying to smile again.

Once he’s home, showered, had dinner and closed his door to keep out a particular smaller family member, Hinata sits on his legs in front of his mirror to practice his smile. He tries different versions - mouth open, mouth closed, mouth open with his eyes closed, mouth closed with a head tilt - but they don’t match up. A smile is just a smile. Nothing more than that. So why does it feel like something is out of place?

It’s no good. 

He uses his index fingers to push up either ends of his lips, trying to reshape how they turn up at the end, but the new shape doesn’t stay anyway, so it’s useless. Since Yamaguchi died, nothing had been the same. He pokes his cheeks, and it’d be a lie if he said he felt like his skin was still his own. Maybe that’s why he can’t even smile anymore. It all feels fake, a chore, a cover-up to deter away from the tragedy. 

Hinata will admit that for most part, he’s had a pretty sheltered life. Death is not something that’s touched his family in the last 16 years. So it was a big shock to hear it had snatched a good friend, seemingly right under his nose. 

Seeing the coffin that supposedly had Yamaguchi with it was unbearable. Yamaguchi in a coffin, the last place in the world he should be. Yamaguchi was kind, who always had time for Hinata and an undying loyalty for his best friend. Yamaguchi, who worked so hard on his float serve that it made Hinata anxious about his own progress, gone. Just like that. 

_Isn’t it weird that people just die, Kageyama? They’re here one day, then gone the next. _

He can’t stop crying about it. It’s annoying, having to go day in and day out with bloodshot eyes and a headache. Someone had commented his eyes looked dead, they had lost their light, and that seemed quite fitting for the situation.

Sometimes Hinata has dreams about Yamaguchi’s coffin. Weird ones. Sometimes the coffin collapses and all that’s inside are thousands upon thousands of insects. Sometimes he’s in the same room with the coffin with no way out, and he has to be forced to confront what's inside. Sometimes he’s watching Yamaguchi climb into it himself and reaching for the lid. The other thing they all have in common is that they’re all horrific and half the time he wakes up screaming and gasping for breath.

He flops into bed, staring at the ceiling. He’s tired, so he wonders which version it will be tonight. His mother bought him some sleeping tablets with the hope they make him so sleepy his brain can’t handle dreaming. To some extent that theory works, but they make him so drowsy the next day and he has nightmares during his lunchtime naps instead. 

So instead, Hinata lets the streetlights that paints his bedroom walls lull him to sleep each night in hopes that embracing them will give him a peaceful sleep in return. He can no longer could stand the dark, and leaves his curtains open and finds gentle comfort in the dim white light. He pretends ghosting rays are the moonlight, the same kind illuminating Kageyama’s room, and it helps him feel less alone. 

Hinata’s phone buzzes on his bedside table and the sudden noise is startling. At first, Hinata thinks it could be Kageyama, but he already texted him goodnight almost half an hour ago with a promise that he’d be the first at the school on Monday, though his tone made it sound more like a threat. Hinata flips open his phone, and heart sinks at his wallpaper. 

When he found out the news, Hinata changed his stock background to a photo of Yamaguchi. According to Kageyama, that was weird, so he ended up changing it to a photo of Yamaguchi _and _himself together. That got a grunt from Kageyama, which could only mean it was fine.   
  


**[From: Tsukishima Kei] 11:03pm**

_Sorry._

Hinata leaps out of bed out of excitement and paces his room to figure out the best reply. He doesn’t want to piss Tsukishima off, but doesn’t want to act too uninterested… Maybe Kageyama would know what to say? But Kageyama’s probably already asleep, since he already said goodnight.

**[To: Tsukishima Kei]**

_For what?_

**[From: Tsukishima Kei] 11:06pm**

_Ignoring your messages._

**[To: Tsukishima Kei] **

_It’s ok_

**[To: Tsukishima Kei]**

_Are you ok? _

Hinata waits.

He doesn’t know what else to do. He once even considered paying someone in Tsukishima’s to spy on him and give him daily updates, but that seemed too risky, and there aren’t many secrets kept safe at Karasuno. But from spying outside his classroom during lunch break a couple of times, Tsukishima goes to school but doesn’t talk to anyone, and he doesn’t even come to practice anymore. Tanaka mentioned him every day, and you can see from his face he still felt guilty being the trigger of Tsukishima walking out of practice that day. 

Coach had claimed _‘well, it was bound to happen soon enough’_ which seemed harsh, even when talking about Tsukishima, and ‘_we can’t force him to come back to the team if he doesn’t want to be here’_ when two weeks had passed without Tsukishima turning up. Takeda had given a speech on the healing power of time, and recommended each of them some sessions with the high school counsellor. 

Hinata had had a few of those by now. He was meant to have them every week, but he changed the frequency of them to every two weeks when people in class started asking where he was going during Wednesday’s literature class, and he didn’t know what to say. _Is it because of that freckled guy in class 4? Weren’t you in the same club? I think I saw you two talk together sometimes. _Hinata had only started crying in response. 

_Why do people kill themselves? _

_Is it because I wasn’t a good enough friend? Is it because he didn’t get enough time on the court? Was it something I said? _

Luckily for Hinata, the school counsellor seemed to have all the answers. She said people sometimes kill themselves because their pain is too much to bear before helping Hinata start to, kind of, understand depression, and that hurt, to know that Yamaguchi, someone on his very team, who he saw everyday was in so much pain he felt like he had to die. 

_How come Yamaguchi was so depressed he didn’t say anything? Should I keep playing volleyball now that Yamaguchi isn’t here anymore? I feel so bad when we score a point without him._

She said people have their reasons, and that was left at that with a shrug. But she reassured Hinata that he didn’t have to stop playing volleyball, and offered the option of playing volleyball _for _Yamaguchi, and that seemed like a good idea. So Hinata told Ukai that he wanted to learn the float serve in memory of Yamaguchi, and Ukai refuted the idea until Hinata went off and did it anyway. 

_How do I tell my younger sister the reason I keep crying is because my friend killed himself? _

Maybe selfishly, the worst part about the whole situation was Natsu. When the news broke in assembly and practice was cancelled for the week, Takeda had taken the time to personally find Hinata and Kageyama and instructed them to go home. Hinata and Kageyama had wordlessly agreed to spend the rest of the day together which turned out to be passing drills in a nearby park, so Hinata didn’t think about it until he got home. He had to explain being home early, which he did in a monotone voice. 

_Do you remember Yamaguchi Tadashi, on our team? They told us today that he killed himself, so they cancelled practice. _

It wasn’t until his mother had dropped everything that she was holding to tightly pull her son into an embrace and murmuring something that Hinata realised the gravity of what he just said. Then reality him like a ton of bricks and the walls came crumbling down and he started crying, and Natsu had come running because of the noise, that Hinata realised he had no idea how to explain the concept of suicide to a ten-year-old. To make matters worse, she kept persisting with worried eyes and surprise hugs and it only got harder as the weeks went on by as Hinata started getting more tired and he could feel his guard slipping. 

Hinata would never tell anyone on the team, but when it got bad and it felt like the tears would never stop and he’d never be able to ease the aching in his chest, sometimes the only thing that slowed down the world was putting his head on the lap of his mother who’d play his hair and sing his favourite childhood lullaby. Natsu would sit at her feet and stare at her brother and reach out for his hand, so that both of hers could clasp one of his. It helped, being surrounded by love and the clamminess of his sister’s hand. 

The counsellor also suggested ways of telling Natsu that Yamaguchi died without mentioning the method as to not upset her, and that helps ease his anxiety of being around his younger sister for when she inevitably asks the next time. 

_What about Tsukishima? I know he hates me, but I don’t know how to help, how can I help? _

Admittedly, her expertise was scarce in this area. Her advice was to keep reaching out, but Hinata has to keep sheepishly admitting to her that he wiggles his way out of it every evening. So, he’s nonetheless surprised to see a text from Tsukishima on his phone. He tries again.

**[To: Tsukishima Kei] **

_I’m sad too :(_

**[To: Tsukishima Kei] **

_We light lanterns for Yamaguchi every month, you should come next time_

Hinata waits another half an hour, but Tsukishima doesn’t respond. 

**[To: Tsukishima Kei]**

_How was your birthday?_

At least he’s tried.

Defeated and tired, Hinata places his phone back on his bedside table and moves to his window. He opens it and rests his arms on the windowsill, staring at the moon. When Hinata first hit rock bottom, Kageyama had offered some advice over the phone. 

_“We look at the same moon.”_

At first, Hinata had wondered why he said something so obviously stupid. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so busy wiping snot off his upper lip, but Kageyama carried on before he got the chance to call him an idiot. 

_“When you’re sad and can’t talk to me, look at the moon, because I look at it, too.”_

Kageyama then sent him a picture of the moon from his bedroom window. It was a little blurry and the moon just looked like a white dot on some dark paper, but Hinata understood then. 

_“See? The same moon, dumbass.”_

So when Kageyama was sleeping, the moon stood in his place. Hinata had to crane his neck a bit to see the moon properly from his window, but the point still stands: they're under the same moon. 

_“That was so cute, Kageyama-kun!” _

_“S-shut up, dumbass. It’s some kind of quote. Don’t tell anyone I said that, idiot.” _

_Hinata had laughed, then broke into tears, and had to wipe away some more snot._

_“Thanks, Kageyama.” _

Hinata is pretty sure he would not survive this without him. Because ever since they left that school assembly together, Kageyama has been there, in every sense of the word. Kageyama is the first to greet him in the morning and the last to say goodnight. At first, he’d keep Hinata at arm’s length when he was crying, and now he’d be the first to initiate a hug when he needed it. Initially, he was stiff but after Hinata complained he’d rather hug a wall, Kageyama softened a bit more each time, and now he was a pro: he gentle squeezes, with a hand on the back of Hinata’s head to guide his face to his chest. He’d be the first to offer Hinata a tissue and the last to leave him alone. He’d gotten used to Hinata’s random FaceTime calls that they hadn’t planned and when Hinata didn’t want to talk, Kageyama would place his phone somewhere and carry on with his chores at home while Hinata quietly watched him through his iPad. 

And then there was their time on the court.

His time on the court with Kageyama seemed more precious than ever. Don’t get him wrong, Hinata loved every second, every toss, every burn that ripped through his thighs when he jumped, but now, Hinata clung to practices to see him through each day. They added structure, some kind of normality, despite the elephant in the room that breathed down the team’s necks. 

The morning practices with Kageyama are Hinata’s favourite. Hinata’s sleeping pattern shifts between sleepless nights, a few hours and complete knock-out. On nights he can’t sleep and when he can only get a few hours, he’ll get to school much earlier than everyone else, even before Kageyama has stepped foot anywhere near school grounds, and run circuits of the school before he gets there. Sometimes Kageyama would even join him in running circuits, and even if Kageyama called him out on cheating by getting there early, it was nice. Hearing the rhythm of feet smacking against floor, Kageyama’s annoying pants and his own, was a welcome, steady start in the morning. 

When the gym opens, Kageyama works him to the bone, right up to the minute they have to leave for class, so that Hinata’s grogginess is replaced by adrenaline, no matter how much he’s slept (or not). Hinata’s pumping heart and the sweat soaked t-shirts are what he yearns for, and what helps, is that Kageyama strives for the same. He has the same passion, the same drive, the same pain. So Kageyama pushes him forward, and Hinata pulls him along with him. 

They were a team within themselves, and that worked for Hinata. 

A few days after hearing the news, without any real agreement, Kageyama started joining Hinata in his classroom for lunch. He puts up with the girls giggling and taunts of the other boys that drinking milk was childish and goes to his classroom anyway. He is unfazed. He doesn’t say much and is more of a spectator of class 1-5 than a friend joining Hinata for lunch, but Hinata knows his way of protection is his gaze. 

Kageyama has never once said he’s cared, but he doesn’t need to. Hinata can feel it. He feels it in their night-time calls on the weekend, and Kageyama turning up at his house unexpectedly on Sundays with his school homework. He feels it in the gentle strokes of his hair when they’re hugging and Kageyama’s photos of the moon. He feels it in Kageyama’s gentle voice after practice, when they’re alone and walking home together. 

He feels it in their extra practice when everyone’s left and Kageyama gives him a hundred tosses without a complaint and only calls it a day when Hinata does. But Hinata isn’t stupid. He can see Kageyama’s arms spasming after their intense training and how he first goes for his recovery drink instead of changing when they finally get to the club room. He knows he should call it quits during their extra practice much earlier than he does and not until he’s on his knees because his legs keeping knocking together, but the court is a haven, especially when it’s just the two of them, and Hinata wants to cling to it for as long as he can. 

Call him crazy, but he gets the feeling Kageyama doesn’t want to leave him, either. He’ll offer a stop at the Sakanoshita shop for something with protein before Hinata has to do his half an hour bike ride over the mountains and he will stay with him until he’s eaten it, pushing Hinata’s bike for him in the meantime. Then there’s the longing stare Kageyama gives him just before they part ways. 

_“Don’t do anything stupid, idiot. Cycle on the pavement. Text me when you’re home. If you don’t, you owe me a meatbun.” _

Hinata forgot to text once and Kageyama held him to his promise about the meatbun, and Hinata hadn’t forgotten to text since, for the sake of his wallet. 

There are three gentle knocks at the door. 

_“Nii-chan?” _

Hinata double checks his face in the mirror before he slides open the door. “Natsu? You should be in bed, what are you doing?” 

“I wanted to say goodnight,” Natsu makes her way into her brother’s room and goes to Hinata’s wall-length windows.

“Natsu, it’s nearly midnight, you should be asleep.”

Natsu blissfully ignores his comment. “Nii-chan should close his curtains at night-time,” her hand grabs one of the curtains and tugs it along the rail. 

Hinata sits cross-legged on the floor to watch. Now, don’t get him wrong, Hinata loves his sister to death and would take a bullet for her by all means necessary. But he’s so tired and should already be sleeping, and her antics are sometimes too much to deal with at this time of night. 

“Thanks for closing my curtains, Natsu. I just forgot.” 

“Tobio-nii is coming tomorrow!” 

“Hm? Yeah, maybe. I’m not sure. He hasn’t said anything about coming over yet.” 

"I hope Tobio-nii comes over tomorrow! Nii-chan doesn't laugh anymore." 

"Huh? I don't?" 

Natsu turns to Hinata with her big, round, puppy dog eyes and frowns. "You’re always sad," she sits next to Hinata. "And you never tell me why!"

"I can tell you why now," Hinata bites his tongue. _Does Natsu understand the concept of death?_ "Natsu... My friend went away." 

"Went away where?" 

"He went away, forever." 

"But where?"

"Natsu... My friend died." 

Hinata watches her face crumple, and feels his face doing the same. Hinata pulls her into his side and they both sit there, sobbing. 

Hinata didn't mean to make her cry, but it is strangely cathartic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cool news: I wrote 20K for this fic throughout camp nano!
> 
> uncool news: I have finals coming up, and will probably struggle to find the time to edit the rest of the 20K words. I'm hoping to stick to the once a month upload schedule, but please bear with me! 
> 
> my last chapter got a lot of love and I wanted to say thank you so much! 
> 
> to everyone who has left me comment so far, everyone who has left kudos, everyone who has bookmarked and to all the silent readers, thank you for coming back when I update, thank you for taking a risk and reading, thank you for sticking with me! 
> 
> I know this fic is heavy and it is a big ask to read it, especially a time like this when we are feeling more lost than usual. please know that if you need to put this fic on a shelf for now, that is totally ok! 
> 
> I hope you are doing okay, I will see you month <3


	14. Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg I am sorry for not updating the last couple of months! more in the notes at the end
> 
> I am dedicating this chapter to tofudog ♥ 
> 
> I don't know if you will see this right now, but today you have given me the most amazing gift and this is the best thing I can give you in return. From the bottom of my heart, thank you :)

**[Unknown number]** **10:52pm**

_ Hey hey hey!!!! _

**[Unknown number] 10:52pm**

_ Tsukki!!!! It’s your favourite top 5 ace!!! _

**[Unknown number]** **10:52pm**

_ Kuroo is bragging that you came to see him!!!  _

**[Unknown number] 10:53pm**

_ I know it’s true!!! Don’t deny it!!!! He even showed me the picture of you together!!!  _

**[Unknown number] 10:53pm**

_ What do you have to say about your betrayal Tsukki???  _

Tsukishima sighs at the texts, but he can’t stop the smile that spreads all over his face. The warmth of friendship from Tokyo has seemingly carried itself all the way back to Sendai, from the bus and all the way into Tsukishima’s room. 

Tsukishima’s mother has called into work tonight sick, sick from worry for her son which was her excuse, and she bombarded Tsukishima with questions the second he walked into the door, beginning with:  _ Oh my god, Kei! _ with frantic hands cupping his face.

“Tokyo! By yourself! Why- How- Why did you go to Tokyo?”

“I just wanted to see a friend,” Tsukishima shows his mum the photo of Kuroo and himself together, thinking it would ease her anxiety, but tears well in her eyes and her hands start shaking against his skin, and Tsukishima feels like he just screwed the final nail in the coffin even though he knows she’s only just begun.

“Who… Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Kei, you can’t just do that. I thought you were dead! I thought you’d gone to Tokyo just to… just to…” 

“Mum?”

“To... To do what Tadashi did to himself! You can’t do that to me Kei, do you have any idea?! Leaving me a note like that, not telling Akiteru anything… Do you understand?  _ Do you understand? _ Baby, I know you’re hurting, but you’re not Tadashi. You can’t do that.”

_ What Tadashi did to himself. _

_ Tadashi. _

“Please don’t talk about him like that, please,” Tsukishima feels his chest clench and he becomes painfully aware of his breaths; his first good day in a while suddenly ruined. 

“Do you have any idea what you put me through today? What you put Akiteru through? Leaving me a note, going to Tokyo- to Tokyo! Ignoring my texts, not picking up your phone, do you have any idea how worried I was?! Do you?!” Hisae takes a shaky deep breath. Tears make her son appear blurry. “Come here,” She clings to him in a bear-crushing hug. “I nearly called the police. But I didn’t want to because I thought they were going to find you  _ dead _ ,” she sobs and Tsukishima feels the static crawling back into his head. 

“I… I wouldn’t… It- it was just Kuroo.”

On a usual day, the clasp of his mother would be too suffocating and to be honest, it’s starting to hurt. But right now in this moment, the feeling of his mother’s hands grabbing onto the material of his jacket and the sound of her sobs are keeping Tsukishima grounded in this moment where he feels like he could quite easily float away. 

_ One. Two. Three. Four. Five.  _

“But I don’t know this  _ Kuroo _ . He could be anyone.”

_ Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. _

“He’s not going to murder me, mum…” Tsukishima trails off, and attempts to take a deep breath despite the ache in his lungs. Hisae pulls back a moment to look at Tsukishima and he takes the opportunity to admire her tear-stained cheeks. It’s a reminder that she cares, but the twist in Tsukishima’s gut changes the thought to make him believe that he’s selfish.

_ One. Two. Three. Four. Five. _

“Don’t you dare do that to me again,” Hisae’s voice breaks and it’s accompanied by a fresh set of tears. Tsukishima’s taller than her now, so she cries into Tsukishima’s jumper by his shoulder, and Tsukishima gets some kind of déjà vu. 

In his head, he’s back on the edge of Yamaguchi’s bed, and he can smell the hot chocolate sitting on Yamaguchi’s bedside table. Yamaguchi is trembling and his hands are on Tsukishima’s back. Tsukishima’s cheek sits on top of Yamaguchi's head, and his fingers begin to gently work their way through the knots in Yamaguchi’s hair. Tsukishima can feel his t-shirt getting wet and his arm around Yamaguchi’s shoulders moves with his sobs. Tsukishima knows he shouldn’t be reliving the past, it’s too bittersweet and painful, but he can’t help it.

_ Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. _

"My baby, please… You have no idea how worried we are about you. I can’t bear the thought of it, Kei. Not after… Tadashi was like a son to me. You know that.”

_ Was he? _

Tsukishima has to admit to himself that he didn’t know that. After all those years, it probably made sense that he felt like family, but Tadashi fitted in so naturally, it didn’t seem to need to be said.

The silence looms...

...And Tsukishima still can't find a suitable response. It seems strange that not too long ago Tsukishima was thinking of disappearing, and at the time, that didn’t scare him. But now, seeing his mother break down over the mere thought of it, has Tsukishima’s stomach in knots. Dying, leaving it all behind... 

_ Tadashi, was it really worth it?  _

_ Was it really worth leaving me here?  _

It was almost offensive to think about. Yamaguchi, who spent nearly every waking moment two strides behind Tsukishima or a step aside, suddenly desired to be dead instead, rather than be sad next to Tsukishima. 

_ It is terribly selfish.  _

What Tsukishima can't be too sure of, is if that thought was aimed at his own thinking or at Yamaguchi, who was still sitting on the family mantelpiece and never coming back. 

_ Tadashi, please, was it really worth it?  _

* * *

**[From: Kuroo Tetsurou] 11:41pm**

_ Did you make it home yet? _

**[To: Kuroo Tetsurou] **

_ I'm home now _

**[From: Kuroo Tetsurou] 11:43pm**

_ Oh good  _

**[From: Kuroo Tetsurou]** **11:44pm**

_ Btw we should totally get you a games console so you can play online with me. You were practically begging to play The Last of Us today, I could see it in your eyes  _

**[To: Kuroo Tetsurou] **

_ No thanks _

**[From: Kuroo Tetsurou] 11:46pm**

_ :(  _

**[From: Kuroo Tetsurou] 11:51pm**

_ Btw, sorry to give your number to the big owl idiot. I was trying to just brag about how I was the coolest senpai and then he wouldn't stop pestering me  _

Tsukishima laughs but he leaves that last message unanswered. He sits on his bed and curls his knees up to his chest and looks at the wall next to the bed. He's taken the time to print out some photos of himself and Yamaguchi and blu-tacked them to the wall. It looks like a shrine at the best of times, but Tsukishima can't think of anything else to do with the photos other than looking at them digitally. Most of the time, seeing the photos by his bed is comforting. He copied the idea from Yamaguchi's room, to see what it's like to have photos printed off, and it's actually quite nice to have Yamaguchi so close. 

Tsukishima prefers to keep to a minimal kind of style in his room. The less clutter, the better. Even the toy dinosaur he got when he was young has its own dedicated place on the bookshelf. So when Tsukishima had the first thought of making a photo album, that seemed like a practical idea, but after looking at ideas online, a photobook made it seem too final, like a memorial piece for mourning, and Tsukishima suddenly hated the idea of his memories with Yamaguchi gathering dust on his bookshelf.

Besides, Tsukishima is still making up theories that lead to Yamaguchi living out the rest of his life somewhere else on the planet. Maybe he had to be moved away with a new identity and leave without a trace after a secret spy mission gone wrong, like those bad action movies. Tsukishima likes that idea: the theory that the action movies Yamaguchi slated so much during their sleepovers together was Yamaguchi's secret life, which is why he didn't like them very much. 

It’s probably some kind of coping mechanism, but Tsukishima much prefers this story to the real one. Yamaguchi on some kind of secret mission or under some sort of witness protection is easier to stomach, rather than being dead and gone and never coming back. Sometimes Tsukishima will fall asleep with the image of Yamaguchi on the backstreets of Bangkok with a new name and fashion style to match. This new Yamaguchi misses Japan and misses Tsukishima, but knows they stay connected under the stars.

**[From: Kuroo Tetsurou] 12:03am**

_ Goodnight, Kei. See you next month?   
_ _   
_

**[From: Kuroo Tetsurou] 12:04am**

_ We should FaceTime soon, next week after my exams? _

**[To: Kuroo Tetsurou] **

Sure. Goodnight, Kuroo. 

Tsukishima can no longer deny the smile that creeps up on his face.   
  
  


* * *

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 23rd May, 1:16am**

_ Tsukki I’m sorry the monsters have taken me  _ _   
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 23rd May, 1:38am**

_ Tell them I didn’t want to go  _ _   
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 23rd May, 6:03am**

_ I’m alive, oops  
_ _   
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi]** **23rd May, 9:31pm**

_ Today I told you I tried killing myself last night and I feel better  
_ _   
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 23rd May, 9:32pm**

_ Only you had your headphones on and you didn’t hear me   
_ _   
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 23rd May, 9:33pm**

_ But it’s okay  
_ _   
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi]** **23rd May, 9:35pm**

_ I didn’t want anyone to know but I had to say it aloud because I felt I’ve been living in some kind of dream since I woke up alive this morning  
_ _   
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 23rd May, 9:39pm**

_ I haven’t told anyone else   
_ _   
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 23rd May, 9:54pm**

_ I don’t know why I did it   
_ _   
_

**[From: Yamaguchi Tadashi] 23rd May, 10:03pm**

_ I always wondered what it’d be like to die alone, but I found out it’s not really any different to falling asleep by yourself _

* * *

Sunday. 

The day of rest, usually. 

Before Yamaguchi died, Sundays had meant trips to the cafe and some light studying. With light study, Tsukishima let Yamaguchi talk as much as he wanted and wouldn't call him out on it. They'd catch up with any loose parts of homework they hadn't finished or go over some kind of boring English grammar that neither of them fully understood, and then for the rest of the day, they'd rest. 

Their latest mission had been to try out all the fast food places all over town to figure out which one had the best French fries, so Yamaguchi could crown one the best after their original favourite place closed down. While Yamaguchi decided on a rating for the fries, Tsukishima sipped on his favourite indulgent thing, a banana milkshake. This seemed to be when Yamaguchi was happiest: with Tsukishima in a fast food restaurant, eating fries and telling Tsukishima all about his week even though Tsukishima himself had been there, heard it and seen it all with his own eyes already. 

Tsukishima had grown to like the repetitions, because after that, Yamamguchi ended up talking about something more personal about himself. Usually something about his family or the conversations he had with the elderly woman down the street who he handed a bento to everyday, and those were nice. Yamaguchi first described that the conversations revolved around the team and their upcoming matches and how Yamaguchi pulled another muscle, and then blushed when he finally admitted to Tsukishima that he mainly spoke about him and what they got up together, but Tsukishima hadn't minded. 

He can't help but wonder what the elderly woman down the road and outsiders thought of them, if they thought they looked like best friends who knew everything about each other or if Yamaguchi seemed like an acquaintance at school who wouldn't leave Tsukishima alone after their practices. 

Neither of those assumptions fit comfortably. Tsukishima did not know everything there was to know about Yamaguchi, since he learned something new every weekend, even though Yamaguchi knew Tsukishima better than he knew himself. Neither were they just acquaintances that Tsukishima was trying to shake off. On the contrary, the Sunday light study sessions had been Tsukishima's own idea. He couldn't seem to get enough of Yamaguchi, even though they sat together during lunches, endured classes together, went to practices for hours after school and walked to and from school everyday. 

Tsukishima doesn't think himself too much of an extrovert, but an introvert label doesn't fit him quite right either. He wants to be alone with himself or alone with Yamaguchi, that seems to be all he needs. The need to be constantly striving towards something had not been something that was seemingly important to him, but a life where he’s financially comfortable that allows him to go to museums every now and then with Yamaguchi and a weekly lunch together seemed enough. As long as Yamaguchi was in the picture, Tsukishima didn’t feel the need to ask for anything else. 

Now he didn't even have that. 

It was still strange how quickly things changed. 

Tsukishima once had his whole planned out with another person, and now that person was gone. What was he meant to do now? What was going to be his new definition of ‘enough’? It was tiring trying to figure that out. 

Sure, he could go to university and take English and move to the other side of the world, but would it really mean anything if Yamaguchi wasn't there to pester him to take a tourist photo of himself on Brighton Pier with candy floss in his hand and a smile that could outshine even the sun? What's the point in spending all that money, all that time, just to be lonelier? 

_ Tadashi, does it still seem worth it? Dying alone?  _

Tsukishima thinks back to the texts he read in the early morning. His Yamaguchi, trying to take his own life in the spring and then didn’t mention it the following Sunday. 

This makes Tsukishima realise two things: the first is that Yamaguchi was a book whose words were still being written. Second, Tsukishima was reading the edited version of Yamaguchi’s story. 

If that was the case, then Yamaguchi’s secret texts were the ugly first draft. If only Tsukishima had access to it earlier, then maybe it would’ve been different. Tsukishima had been looking forward to the chapter where they graduated high school and what Yamaguchi would do with his new freedom, and lazily assumed that their books would intertwine and Yamaguchi would write for them both.

Tsukishima had grown used to scanning the pages of Yamaguchi’s book on Sundays, liked it even, but he just hadn’t expected it to end so soon, so suddenly. If only he had looked closer, maybe he would’ve seen the pain disguised between the lines and the secrets kept hidden after each full stop.

The world blurs. Tsukishima lays back down on his bed. He doesn’t deserve the comfort, but he reaches out for his phone. Not only did Yamaguchi destroy himself from the inside out, but he had tried dying before. All he can think about is how he was not only good enough to live for, but he wasn't good enough to live for twice. Isn't that terrible? 

**To: [Draft]**

_ Kuroo, can you talk?  _

Tsukishima stares at his phone.  _ Can _ Kuroo talk? He mentioned having more midterm exams. So probably not. It's not up to him to share Yamaguchi's business. Kuroo wouldn't want to hear it. The excuses build until they topple and click out of the messaging app.  
  


**** _[Draft deleted.]  
  
_

It's not too late in the afternoon and he's not had lunch yet -- it's patiently sitting on the kitchen side wrapped in foil after being lovingly made -- but Tsukishima knows how the rest of the day will go once he lets the familiar feeling of loneliness settle, and it probably won't include eating until his mother is forced to spoon feed it to him. 

Tsukishima feels the weight of the world creep into his skin. It bleeds from his chest all the way down to his fingertips and ankles. It’s still broad daylight, but Tsukishima hides himself in bed and under the duvet and it feels like it will suffocate him. It hurts to breathe, lungs shackled under chains of guilt, but Tsukishima will have to admit that it is comforting to be back at rock bottom again, because there is safety in how he can’t fall further than this.

_ Tadashi, why didn’t you take me with you? _

Tsukishima strains himself hard to try and remember. But a headache and several social media checks later, he can't remember. He can't remember the day where Yamaguchi was seemingly off. He can't remember the day, or any day, where Yamaguchi seemed upset to be alive. He can't remember. 

_ I'm sorry, Tadashi.  _

_ I already knew I was a shitty friend, but I have to be worse than that to not remember if you seemed different after a suicide attempt, don't I?  _

Tsukishima browses the faces of Yamaguchi on the wall looking for the answer, and he doesn’t find one. Instead, he stumbles upon a question:

_ Tadashi, why didn't you ask me to come with you?  _

The question plagues his mind for days. He goes back to school on Monday and brings in a new flower to place in the small vase that sits on Yamaguchi's desk. It was placed there on the first month anniversary when he died and it was never removed, so Tsukishima brings in a new flower to replace the dying ones. Sometimes there is one new flower in the vase, sometimes there's several. Monday seems to be the day of the week with the most new flowers, so Tsukishima speculates that the flowers signify how often his classmates think about Yamaguchi. In that theory, most of the thinking is done over the weekend.

This Monday is no different. Tsukishima struggles to fit his new flower in the vase to the point he almost considers getting a paper cup to put it in. He wishes to god that his classmates would be more considerate and spread out the work and set some kind of rota so Tsukishima can put his own damn flower in the vase, but he knows better than to voice this aloud and Tsukishima knows he should be grateful with whatever support Yamaguchi has in retaining his memory.

Before Yamaguchi died, Tsukishima would not be caught dead carrying a flower into school, even if his life depended on it, but now he did it at least once a week. Pride? That didn't matter anymore. When should it have ever? Maybe if Tsukishima shoved his pride into trash alongside his tragic personality and so-called friendship, maybe Yamaguchi wouldn't have been so afraid to tell Tsukishima that he tried killing himself, with his headphones off. Maybe he'd still be here. 

_ Ah. _

Tsukishima knows he should try and stop this negative thinking. The forums all say it only does more damage than good, but Tsukishima can't seem to help the part of his brain that tells him that he deserves to be broken down slowly, piece by piece, like Yamaguchi's own mind did. 

Tsukishima spends a couple of minutes rearranging the flowers until they all fit inside the vase. He knows his classmates awkwardly look on, trying not to stare, but this is the one thing Tsukishima doesn’t mind taking his time on and they can stare all they like.

_ Can you see this? Why did you think no one cared? How stupid can you be, Tadashi?  _

Looking at Yamaguchi's desk today has been the most painful in a while. How many days did Yamaguchi sit there, dreaming of his own death? How many days did he sit there, in a dream state, wondering why he was still alive? How many signs did Tsukishima miss? How many signs did Tsukishima decide not to pay attention to? 

_ Sorry, Tadashi. I made this all about me, again.  _

The lecturer goes on about some kind of page of the book they're reading in class. She talks about the use of language in the passage and how that was important, but it doesn't register in Tsukishima's head and it floats past like a butterfly on a spring day.

_ How often did you sit there not paying attention because you knew you were going to end it all soon? _

_ How often did you consider telling me what was going on?  _

_ How many times did you tell yourself you weren't worth the trouble of telling me?  _

Tsukishima feels his entire self ache and feels his pencil snap under his clutch and the pressure of keeping himself together. 

The lecturer goes on about some kind of formula. How long has his mathematics teacher been standing there? 

Tsukishima looks down at his desk, and finds his mathematics workbook already open, the date already scrawled into the corner. Today was not going to be a conscious day. He glances up at the clock, 12:30pm. It took him half the day to realise it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry again for the late update! 
> 
> I had exams all June and burnt myself out from all the studying so I basically just spent July resting and playing The Last of Us Part II! and then haikyuu manga ended, and I cried a lot and needed time to grieve lmao. but I got top marks for my exams and essays so it was worth it in the end
> 
> I hope everyone is doing okay and taking it easy as much as you can ♥ if you need something new to watch, I am here with a recommendation: Theory of Love. It's a Thai BL series available on YouTube with subs in 17 different languages! omg. it is my life. I have watched it 4 times :)) 
> 
> please feel free to scream about it/other bl/haikyuu with me on twitter @ughitssophie ! 
> 
> I am hoping to be back very soon, but in the meantime, please take good care of yourselves ♥


	15. Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a year ago today, I uploaded the prologue to this fic! I was super nervous posting to the internet for the first time in 2.5 years, but I was lucky enough to get a lovely comment from an anon and I still carry that warmth with me. 
> 
> a whole year ago! so much has happened since then, but this fic a constant for me, and I am very grateful for everyone who has joined the ride with me. thank you so much :) I promise to see it through to the very end as this is a very important part of me
> 
> you can also consider this early update as an apology for the delay on the last one haha 
> 
> also, happy haikyuu day! <3

**[To: Yamaguchi Tadashi] **

_ I would have gone to the ends of the world with you if you asked me to. _

* * *

These days, Tsukishima doesn’t run.

The actual adjustment of running at 4am was surprisingly easy. A welcome change, even. Tsukishima gets to see the world quiet for a moment longer, watch the sky brighten into morning light over the same mountains that Hinata cycles over, and he feels like the only person on the Earth. He likes the burn in his legs and imagining that he’s running from the monsters in his head, even now. He leaves the monsters behind when he shuts the front door of the house, runs from them for an hour, and meets up with them again once he returns home. 

Yamaguchi’s birthday is looming, so the monsters don’t let go of him in the week leading up to it. They keep him secured in his room in the morning and keep him aware of them by shutting out the lights in his mind. The air turns too thick, so Tsukishima stops running. He spends the following week slipping out of his new routine, and does nothing to stop it. It takes far too much energy to even think about tying the shoelaces on his trainers and selecting a new audiobook to listen to. 

He’ll admit that he misses his private time in twilight, but it can’t be helped. He still wakes up early in the darkness of his room, and the hours until school are spent counting laboured breaths in silence. As each day passes without running, Tsukishima is erasing his progress, and he knows that. He didn’t make a new playlist the day after seeing Kuroo, burnt out from the trip, and the Sunday after that, it seemed too difficult.

Despite being kept under this burden of grief, he’s still expecting himself to cope with it better, if this is what it was going to be like for the rest of his life: a continuous push and pull from the truth, back to it, to swimming away from it again. Tsukishima considers telling Kuroo of how bad he’s suddenly slipped, compared to that Saturday, where he felt like things were finally on the mend. But now, Tokyo and the comfort of Kuroo now feel like million miles away, and his mother is barely letting him out of her sight. 

These days, she drives him to school and sometimes picks him back up again, now that the secret of him quitting the volleyball club is obvious.  _ It’s a given, _ she says,  _ considering the circumstances. _ Tsukishima knows this is what everybody is saying behind his back. And it’s driving him crazy. 

_ Given the circumstances…  _

Tsukishima wishes he was a better griever. He wishes he could sit down and cry into Akiteru's shoulder, giving him full, unadulterated access into his every thought, every crazy idea, every memory, but Tsukishima cannot bring himself to do it. The walls he placed in front of his heart in payment for his pride refuse to come down even the slightest, so Tsukishima is back to crying out to Yamaguchi in the dead of the night, alone. 

If you were in Tsukishima's room, nothing feels wrong. You would not believe there were tens upon thousands of secrets hiding in his pillow, under his duvet and in his bedside table drawers. Tsukishima knows this is how he is keeping up a good face. Nothing in his room is out of place. Every pen, every toy, has its own living space where it belongs. It refrains his mother from coming in and tidying up for him in running the risk of coming across Yamaguchi's number-covered pill packets that have found their own place at the bottom of Tsukishima's desk drawer, hidden behind spare stationary. Tsukishima's old phone has upgraded from the bedside drawer to underneath his mattress. 

When Tsukishima looks at his room, he sees his haven but also his hell. It’s a sanctuary away from his facade, but it's the same place he is trying to mend a broken heart and has fallen apart alone a thousand times in the process.

The days go on by and Tsukishima's heavy grief doesn't shift. He feels the blank moods drawing thin and wiring out to nothing. He feels nothing. Food has started to lose its taste again and everything feels hollow. Bentos return home still half full.

It may be petty, but what gets to Tsukishima the most is that he can see straight through all his classmates. They all still giggle and gossip and joke during the breaks, and not one of them mention Yamaguchi's name, as if they were not tripping over their own sadness in the morning with their flowers. Tsukishima cannot stand the falseness, their audacity to ignore Yamaguchi at such a time like this. And now with Yamaguchi's birthday coming up, Tsukishima feels like someone somewhere should organise something, because Yamaguchi secretly enjoyed the attention on his birthdays when shy girls would pass him sweets and chocolate on his special day, though Tsukishima secretly scorned them because they ignored him every there day of the year. 

Tsukishima should probably mention something to someone, but to who? Is anyone actually going to care about a dead classmate's birthday? 

The lanterns are a good idea, Tsukishima will give Hinata that. Lanterns that light up the sky and seemingly make it to heaven, where Yamaguchi now spends his days. But it only makes sense to do it in the dark, and Yamaguchi's birthday falls on a Sunday this year. It’s probably much easier to do the organisation if he is on his own.

Tsukishima feels his world falling apart all over again, even though he only just patched it back up. Ok, so maybe ‘patching it back up’ was just with some sticky tape and ignorance, but it worked, to some extent. And if Tsukishima was truthful about it, he’s kind of okay with staying at rock bottom, because he doesn’t run the risk of falling any further south. And maybe his heart would be shattered for the rest of his life, but that way he doesn’t have to worry about it breaking again. The heartbreak fills the empty spaces where Yamaguchi’s meant to be.

And if he never finds anyone else to put up with him, so what?

They will never fill Yamaguchi’s space, and they will never feel the pressure to. Maybe a lonely life in the UK wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

* * *

Kuroo keeps his promise and suddenly FaceTimes Tsukishima on Thursday. Tsukishima’s personality is buried underneath his sadness, but he answers the call on his laptop without much thought, until he jumps at Kuroo's face being on his screen. 

"Hey! What was with that reaction to my face?!" 

"...Kuroo?"

"Holy shit, you look like shit, Kei, you alright?" 

Tsukishima jumps and rushes over to get his headphones before his mother's first impression of Kuroo is his bad mouth. He scrambles to put the jack into the headphone port before putting them on top of his ears, and his face suddenly burns as when he looks back at Kuroo, whose face has broken out in amused laughter. 

"Bad day, huh?" 

"Something like that," Tsukishima checks his door to make sure it's shut. 

"You're nervous." 

"I just didn't expect you to call, to be honest. I thought you forgot." 

"About you?! Never! Here, I've finished my exams for the week," Kuroo leans back and stretches and yawns. "One of the questions that came up was on a flashcard you tested me on which was one of the first ones you picked in the cafe, so I remembered the answer because of that, isn't that great?! Also, I got to think of your stupid face during my exam which was a nice surprise. So no, I'd never forget about you. You really thought I did?" 

Tsukishima pulls his lips into a straight line, not daring himself to say something stupid or clingy. 

"I'll text you more often now, promise! But hey, really, you okay?" 

Tsukishima hesitates. There’s no point lying, because he knows Kuroo can see right past them. "It's just a grief thing," he settles on. 

"A grief thing,” Kuroo carefully repeats.

"Yeah," Tsukishima confirms. "A grief thing." 

"Right," Kuroo can feel him staring, and somehow it feels more intimidating across the screen than right there in person. "You going to try and come over next month?" 

"It's not even been two weeks since I was in Tokyo, Kuroo," Tsukishima smiles slightly. "But I'm actually not sure anymore. It's Yamaguchi's birthday soon, and I don't know what I'm doing about that." 

"Oh," Kuroo stops. Tsukishima mentally begs Kuroo to talk about something else. "You want me to come over to Sendai instead?" 

Kuroo being over at Tsukishima's house, in his room, is nothing short of a terrifying thought. Kuroo would probably have no issue rummaging around in his room for things to make fun of him of, and the last Tsukishima really needed was someone in his space. 

"No! No, but thanks. I can probably manage it. I’ll probably go and see Yamaguchi and his parents, since we were friends for so long.” 

Even though they are miles away, communicating through screens, Kuroo can still give Tsukishima  _ The Look _ . The look that says 'I know you are lying through your teeth, but I have no way to prove it, you lucky bastard'. Tsukishima crosses his arms in defense, and Kuroo's face softens. 

"Alright," He starts. "But, if you wanted to talk about it afterwards..." 

"Thanks," Tsukishima knows Kuroo is trying. And that much he can appreciate. He is doing more than anyone else has even though they live right here in Sendai. And now it's his turn to reciprocate. "And guess what?" 

"Yeah?"

"I texted Hinata back on the train back from Tokyo last Saturday." 

"You did? That's good, that's really good, Kei." 

Tsukishima feels himself bursting with pride. The weight in his chest shifts slightly. "Yeah."

"What did you say?" 

"I said I was sorry for not replying to his texts."

"And?" 

Tsukishima tilts his head to one side. Should he lie? 

"I think that's all I said." He should not lie, because somehow Kuroo can see right through him. He wonders if Kenma gave him enough practice. 

"It's a start," Kuroo says. 

"It's a start," Tsukishima repeats. And it's true. A start is as good as any. Even if it was the biggest idiot in his life. 

"You're smiling," Kuroo comments.

"I am?" 

"Yeah, you're already better than 5 minutes ago when you answered the call," Kuroo says. "Thanks for picking up, for a second I thought you were going to stand me up." 

"Stand you up?" Tsukishima raises his eyebrow and snorts. "We didn't have anything planned." 

"That's not the point," Kuroo insists. "A FaceTime date is the worst thing to be stood up by." 

"I guess you would have plenty of experience in being stood up." 

"You would guess incorrectly," Kuroo states matter-of-factly. "I only know that because sometimes Kenma gets so into his games that he doesn't hear anything else, not even when I try calling ten times, he doesn't hear it."

"Are you sure his hearing isn’t perfectly fine and he's just ignoring you?"

"He would never! I'm his captain," Kuroo argues. He goes off screen and comes back with his phone. "I'm asking him right now if he's ever ignored me," Kuroo sticks his tongue out his mouth while he types, and Tsukishima stares at his room behind him. He misses being there, the warmth of his house which was too hot, even for the winter, and Kuroo's chatter and the sounds of zombies. Tsukishima would be lying if he said he didn't want to go back there, but he'd rather be caught dead than staring into a daydream about Kuroo's bedroom, so he moves until he's offscreen. 

Tsukishima takes the second to recompose himself while he's out of sight. He takes a deep breath and stretches out his neck and blinks a few times before sliding back into view. 

"Oh, there you are," Kuroo comments. "I got my answer from Kenma. He  _ does _ ignore me sometimes, isn't that rude? Apparently some games are too good that they're worth sacrificing my attention." 

"I thought so," Tsukishima answers. 

"Anyway, Kei, When are you going to come over, then? When are you going to get your newspaper job?" 

"I told you, there aren't any of those kinds of jobs around here," Tsukishima sighs. He rests his chin on his hand. "I don't know when I'm coming back. Maybe December, but the trains will be too expensive for the season because of the Christmas season. So, maybe January." 

"January?" 

"It's not too far away."

"Maybe I'll ask my parents to drive me to Sendai." 

"Do not." 

"Maybe I'll bring the owl with me, too." 

"Don't you dare."

"I think we're just what you need to kick your Grief Thing away, Kei."

"I don't think so," Tsukishima sighs. "I'm not sure what's going to make the Grief Thing go away."

"Grief is a journey! Enjoy the ride," Kuroo looks impressed with himself, but Tsukishima feels some kind of disdain burning up. 

"Enjoy the ride? Kuroo, I lost my best friend. How can I enjoy the ride?" 

Kuroo stares at him through the screen for a moment. Tsukishima folds his arms again. Kuroo doesn't even look upset. "You said it."

"Said what?" 

"You said what happened. You normally just trail off." 

"Huh?"

"You said, and I quote, 'I lost my best friend'. You normally just say Yamaguchi's name and then nothing else." 

"Oh."

"See? I'm helping." 

"You're not helping when you're pissing me off." 

"Hey! Be nice to me, I had exams this week," Kuroo is giving him a headache. How can someone be so intelligent so stupid at the same time? 

"Be nice to me, I lost my best friend,” Tsukishima mimics and Kuroo smirks. Tsukishima could kick himself for saying it again. His heart is pensive inside his chest. Fragile. His tears are threatening to spill over. 

_ Knock knock knock.  _

The door opens.

"Kei? Who are you speaking to?" 

_ Ah fuck. _ "Kuroo, sorry, my mum's at the door-" 

Hisae invites herself in, poking her head through the door. "Kei? Oh! Who is that?"

"Ugh, mum!" Hiase comes next to Kei and waves at the camera. Tsukishima sighs. "This is Kuroo." 

"Hi, Kuroo-san! I'm Kei's mother!" 

Tsukishima rolls his eyes and unplugs his headphones from the port so she can hear Kuroo's greeting. "See? This is Kuroo. He isn't a murderer." 

Kuroo kindly introduces himself and waves back, smiling angelically like he doesn't do everything in his power to worm secrets out of Tsukishima and asked him to get a job so he can go and visit him all the way in Tokyo. Tsukishima feels his face burn while Kuroo asks his mother all sorts of questions about her day, her job, what she's up to, how she's enjoying winter. Hisae enjoys the conversation, putting down the washing she was carrying on Tsukishima's desk and begins folding it on camera, and Kuroo is very kindly making all the conversation in the world, but Tsukishima can tell he wants to laugh and give him sly eye contact in a way to say he knows he's won his mother's heart over and he knows he can come to Sendai  _ anytime _ he likes, because he knows his mother's name and her job and how to charm her. 

"Ooh! I suppose I better get going and leave you boys to it," Hisae smiles wide, waving goodbye to Kuroo who finishes their conversation with formalities and waves back. Hisae leaves the room with her folded washing and telling Tsukishima dinner will be ready soon and that Akiteru will be joining them, which is a quiet way to say that it was overdue family time tonight. 

Tsukishima doesn't dare to look at Kuroo again until his mother quietly closes the door behind her and he plugs his headphones back in. 

"Kei! You're blushing so bad! I did alright, didn't I?" 

"Yes," He gruffly responded. "I guess."

"You guess? I'm always a winner with the mums. The dads, not so much." 

Tsukishima doesn't reply, but he already knows Kuroo is good with parents. No need to brag. "How do you do it?" 

"Do what?" 

"Be... nice."

"I just make conversation." 

"But how?" 

"I just talk about general things and then… I dunno, I just do. Kei, it's not that hard."

"I just can't seem to speak to anyone, apart from you."

"That's because I'm your senpai who's intelligent and handsome and great at everything," Kuroo is overly dramatic in his execution and Tsukishima rolls his eyes again. "But seriously, I just chat shit out my mouth and for some reason, everyone loves that. I’m not even that interesting outside volleyball!"

_ How can I be more like you? _

Tsukishima thinks it, but would rather die than say it aloud and let it get to Kuroo's already inflated ego. "Sure," he replies instead. 

Kuroo shrugs and carries on the rest of the conversation like when he didn't answer the call, Tsukishima looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there. Tsukishima rests his chin on his hand and listens to more of his ramblings, thinking about dinner, dreading his mum talking about Kuroo over dinner and wanting to know more. 

He finds himself wishing Kuroo was closer than three hours away so he could come over for dinner and put all the attention on himself, so Tsukishima doesn't have to lie about being normal and feeling okay and then leaving it to Akiteru to find out the truth. The Friday night dinners with Akiteru were becoming painful for the worst reasons, and Tsukishima knows he should not have to force himself to be okay in front of the people who supposedly love him the most, but what other choice does he have? 

* * *

"Ooh, that Kuroo-kun is so charming! He's good for you, Kei." 

Dinner goes exactly the same way as Tsukishima thought it would -- the attention is all on Kuroo even though he's not even there, and Tsukishima can't help but get annoyed by all the questions Hisae asks about him. Then there’s the moment after dinner, where Akiteru excuses himself to go to the bathroom and Tsukishima helps take all the dishes to the sink, where his mother stops and stares at him, and when he looks up, she’s teary. 

She pulls Tsukishima into a hug suddenly, crying on his shoulder, and she doesn’t say it but Tsukishima knows what it means:  _ I am so proud of you for moving on. _


End file.
